One For the Money
by Toxic-Penguin
Summary: While investigating a case, Ciel Phantomhive recruits a vengeful woman to aid in taking down the Ferro family mafia and it's drug trade. Little does he know, not only does his demonic butler and the mysterious new woman go a lot farther back than he could have ever imagined, but there is more to this woman than what it seems. Sebastian/OC. Manga/Anime Verse. Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, and welcome to my first fanfiction, One for the Money! This is not my first story, but this is the first one I've posted and the first I'm going to actively pursue in finishing.**

**I need to clarify a few things before starting it off. **

**1) My Sebastian might be very different from the Sebastian portrayed in the manga/anime. Not in the sense he will be gushy and friendly, but in the sense he will be brutal and violent - like a demon. I am choosing to do this due to something I noticed during the manga. The way Sebastian acts as seen in the manga and anime is the way he acts in front of Ciel - his master. So I kind of thought about that for a bit before decided how he was going to act. The Sebastian usually seen is his professional act. When it shows Sebastian when the contract first begun - easily angered, impatient, etc-is the way Sebastian will usually act with heroine in later chapters. He won't be all brutal all the time, but he will be more demon than human, because that's what he is- a demon. Sorry if this seems a stupid thing to clarify. This is how I view Sebastian, and this is what I've collected from his behaviour in the manga and anime.**

**2) This will be an anime/manga combo verse. I will try to not confuse you guys, but I will be adding a second, underlying OC plot, due to something that will happen all the way at the end. It will NOT be as important as the actual plot from Kuroshitsuji. Just so you know :D.**

**3) It will probably take a while for the OC and Sebastian to get together. It will take a while for the OC to get over her own stubborness and other things, and it will take Sebastian a while he has ****_feelings, _****much less feelings for ****_her_****.**

* * *

The streets of the East End were quiet, mostly empty in the late hours of the night, save for drunken or lost stragglers, the few predators in the shrouded dark of the alley ways watching for easy prey, the homeless and starving sleeping on the curb of the road, and two distinct forms of a tall, raven black haired, red eyed man dressed in a clean black suit, walking in the shadow of a short young boy. The blueish-black haired boy had a black eye patch made of silk over his right eye and was dressed in the luxurious style of a very rich nobleman, holding a cane in his bejeweled hand, containing a gold ring on his middle finger and a blue silver ring with a large blue gem on his thumb. Both males were pale skinned from a life of indulgence and privilege. The contrast between the clean, finely dressed men was enough to separate very pointedly them from the poverty of the East End and drew the unwanted gaze of the thugs of the area to them, though the pair appeared very comfortable – too comfortable – as they walked through the streets, meaning they were either familiar with the area, or they were armed to the teeth with training and weapons. Most likely, by the unconcerned way they carried themselves, the answer was both.

Though the roads were quiet and almost bare, the many taverns, housing the impoverished holding most of the population in their walls, were bustling with activity; any stragglers made their way into the bars, and groups of drunken men would stumble out of the doors every now and then, having been too drunk to continue their revelries, or having been kicked out and cut off from their prized beverage. The young boy scoffed as a duo of drunken men attempted to aide their friend in getting up, only to end up falling and placing themselves in the same predicament as their friends.

The boy mumbled an insult at their foolishness, a hiss of the word 'idiots', and the tall man watched the boy out of the corner of his eye. After watching the drunken, dirty men mumbling and stumbling in a vain effort to get up, the boy turned to the tall man, his only visible eye – cobalt blue in colour – narrowing at the man. "Are you sure this is the right place to find him, Sebastian?"

The man, Sebastian, smiled warmly, though his eerily coloured eyes remained cold. "Of course, my Lord. This is the place where Lao said we would find the man named Damian."

Huffing out a breath in annoyance, the boy remembered the exchange with Lao. Since Lao had been busy, and the lord needed the lead, he had gone to the Chinese man's opium den, which was a decision the boy immediately regretted. The den was filled with scantily clad women, and the stench of the addicting yet vile smoke filled every crevice in the room. The boy had needed info, info he thought he would get from the constantly smiling man, but he had been sadly mistaken when the Chinese trader turned him away, sending him to a bartender that worked at the tavern in front of the pair named Damian Williams.

Hoping that he would be able to have a background check done on the bartender to know whether or not force would be necessary for the bartender to spill details, and maybe even a few dirty little secrets that could be used to coerce the info out, he ordered Sebastian to do a thorough search through records belonging to the Yard. The info itself hadn't been hard to get, per say, but it had been futile, since the name Damian Williams didn't match the brief, vague profile from the Lao. The only two Damian Williams who lived in London was an extraordinarily old nobleman who was eighty-seven-years-old, living in the rich district of the city, and a 4 year-old child living in the market districts. The new information was fantastically frustrating, due to it meaning that this 'Damian' character was either a foreigner, or he was working under an alias.

Remembering the frustration now, which had been an event that happened earlier that same morning, made the boy's fingers clench a bit tighter around his cane. This damn Damian better have the information that he wanted.

The sound of a throat clearing at the boy's shoulder made him look up at his butler, and he scowled at the too happy, insincere smile on the man's face. Maybe the smoke from Lao's den had gone to his head. "Perhaps we should go in, Young Master?"

Frowning, the boy turned his head back to the poor shape of the cheap, wooden door, and wordlessly moved towards it, hearing the click of his own shoes, and the almost soundless taps of the butler behind him. Stepping up onto the small deck in front, which sported a few tables which were probably used more in the day for lunch, the boy pushed open the door into the bar, and had to suppress the urge to sigh in complete irritation at the chaos inside. The occupants inside were loudly laughing and talking, and a large table of both drunken men and a few waitresses singing a horrible out of tune song, and most of the people around them had obviously joined in at some time. The long, oak bar was in no better shape, crowded with people impatient for beer. The closed off end closest to the door was crowded, and voices were hooting and cheering from it, the people crowding and standing on their tiptoes to watch whatever was going on. Some people left, cups ales and beer in hands, laughing.

Sebastian and the boy looked to each other, both raising an eyebrow, and moved closer to the crowded bar as a unit. Sebastian, much taller than the lord, looked above the crowd, and his eyebrows raised in interest. The boy hissed, grabbing the butler's arm. "What's going on?" He said it in a normal volume of voice, despite the loud rowdy occupants of the tavern, with full faith that his butler could hear. To confirm his belief, the butler looked down at his master.

The man smirked, then leaned to the master's height, whispering just loud enough for the boy to hear him. "It seems the bartender we're looking for is quite popular."

The boy jerked away from the butler, looking the the bar, and pushed his way through the throngs of people. As he moved closer, he could hear one voice above most of the others. The voice itself was too androgynous for him to tell what the gender of the speaker. He pushed a bit more forcefully, but as the bodies got closer together, he found himself unable to force his way through the group on his own. As he was about to call, a white gloved hand moved the people apart, allowing the boy through. Already knowing the owner of the hand, the lord continued moving, and finally caught the own of the voice.

"... So I'm standing there, drinks in hand, this woman is so drunk she's not catching the hint, I've been working the entire day and even _I'm _not drunk enough to consider letting her into my room, Charlie is hanging over my shoulder almost unconscious, and I'm still trying to get to the other side of the hall so I can dump the bloody bastard into his room and get some well deserved shut eye for myself. Then," The owner of the voice paused, a grin clear in their voice, the groups of people hanging onto their every word, "Charles suddenly gets some second wind from God, he takes two steps, and the bloody fool goes face first down the stairs!"

The groups of people exploded into laughter, and a deep voiced bartender a little farther down shouts at the voice, sounding clearly embarrassed. "Hey! You forgot the part where you sang 'Amazing Grace' from atop the bar as loud as you could, you bugger!"

"Yes, but that, my friend, was when I looped the group of gorgeous women nearby with my incredible voice and impeccable charm!" A few people sitting at the bar started to whoop and holler, and the crowd thinned out a bit as they received their drinks and headed to other tables, and the boy finally got a seat near the bar, and he sat down, frustrated by how much effort it had taken to get there. The teller of the story turned, a smile on their lips, and the boy finally caught the face of their informant.

He had dark auburn, almost dark red hair, cut into a shaggy bob, framing his face. His white teeth, exposed by a wide smile, stood out a bit against his tanned skin, and some freckles splattered against his cheeks, and had a squarish jawline, which matched him, with his lean body type, but he wore loose clothing, so it was very hard to tell if he was muscular or not. He had deep set, almond shaped eyes the colour of indigo, framed with dark lashes. He wasn't tall, but he certainly wasn't short, standing at 5'7".

The boy looked to the butler, and Sebastian nodded – this was their man.

Damian's smile fell a bit when he looked down at the boy. He arched a dark eyebrow, his once wide, friendly and welcoming grin being replaced by a sardonic smile as he placed his hands on

the edge and leaned on the bar. "I don't serve children, boy. Go somewhere else for a drink." Scowling, the boy stared down Damian. The man didn't seem to falter, he simply smirked a bit.

The boy huffed out a breath, speaking clearly and loudly over the noise of the tavern. "I don't need a drink; I need information.

Sighing, Damian pushed away from the bar as an older man called for an ale, and he called a 'coming right up!' to the man before looking at the boy a bit condescendingly. "Well, you wouldn't be the first." He turned to the tap behind him, grabbing a cup from a shelf under the bar and grabbing the lever of the tap, the ale sputtering a bit before coming out in a steady stream of it spilled into the glass. Damian spun the cup in what seemed to be practised skill, and he called out to both bartenders and their customers. "Hands!"

All of the customers and workers leaned away from the bar, and the bartender from earlier, Charles, called back. "Clear!"

Going back to the bar's smooth, flat counter, Damian pulled his arm back, cup in hand, and slid it down the long strip of the bar into the hand of the awaiting man, earning a few whoops and calls of 'ten points!' to the bartender.

Damian turned back to the boy, studying the boys face for a few moments. "Noble clothes, fancy eye patch, and the desire to get information..." The man let his words hang in the air a few moments, then suddenly, his eyes sparked and widened, and it looked like two pieces of machinery had clicked together and something that had confused him suddenly made sense. "You're the Watchdog, Ciel Phantomhive."

Ciel sighed, and now regretted not wearing a disguise. For what reason he decided he didn't need to wear a disguise, he had no idea, but now decision it was coming back to haunt him. Some people refused to deal with Watchdog, and Ciel found he couldn't blame them; most, if not all, people in the East End have had dealings in some type of criminal activity, and cooperating with the Watchdog usually ended up with them being locked in a deal with him as an informant, or ended up with them in jail. Or dead.

Having no other option, he simply nodded, cupping his hands under his chin and putting his elbows on the bar, and leaned forward. "So, will you give me the information I want?"

The bartender's eyes narrowed dangerously, carefully examining every feature of the Watchdog, as if he were trying to find a way to discern whether or not Ciel's words were truth or lies. "It depends, Watchdog. What do you need to know, and what price will it fetch?"

The boy waved the butler forward, and Damian reached for the money as the butler placed the large bag of money on the bar. Damian looked up, and he locked eyes with Sebastian for a solid minute, watching him with a gaze foreign to Ciel as Sebastian stared back in an expression that could only be puzzlement, but Damian broke the eye contact, coughing, and looked down at the money, then whistled in appreciation.

Damian chuckled, taking the money in his hand. "Damn kid, I knew nobles had money, but this is more than I expected. With this much, I'm willin' to help ya with whatever you need to do. So, what do you need to know, kid?"

"I need to know where the Ferro family does their operations, and where they hide their drugs." Ciel said simply, watching Damian.

Damian's lighthearted smile fell off his face completely, and he looked around, then leaned over the table, whispering to Ciel. "If we're gonna talk about this, we've gotta go somewhere else. There's too many people who are victims of those bastards here." Damian looked up, stretching to be a bit taller than he was, and shouted through the noisy room. "Chelsea! Come take over, I'm takin' a break, and it might be a while!" Once the woman he had called tapped him out, Damian waved Ciel to follow him.

Ciel raised an eyebrow, but obeyed, getting up. Sebastian and Ciel follow Damian up the stairs, and at the top, Damian produced a silver key, and inserted it into the lock, twisting it and pushing open the door into one of the rooms. Ciel and Sebastian looked to each other as Damian walked in, then they entered in after, though Ciel noticed Sebastian slide a shiny, long object out of his coat sleeve out of the corner of his eye. As he walked in, Damian slid off his over sized jacket and threw it off to the side, revealing a somewhat feminine yet muscular figure beneath his clothing. He sat down on the bed at the far wall, crawling over and opening the window above it, then sat on the edge, his legs spread, his right arm resting on his leg as he placed his other elbow on his corresponding knee, cupping his chin in his hand. He sighed, reaching his free hand to rest on top of his head, and he grabbed his hair and pulled, and all his hair slid away, revealing it to be a wig.

The boy's eyes widened as long, waist length hair tumbled out of the wig, tied back into a ponytail to make all the hair fit into it. The wig was a completely different hair colour than the wig. While the wig was a dark red auburn, her hair was a dark chocolate brown, almost black in colour. 'Damian's' eyes seemed a bit brighter by the long curtain of dark hair framing his face.

'He' looked up, raising an eyebrow at Ciel's staring. "Take a picture, kid, it lasts longer."

Clearing his throat, the lord regained a bit of composure, but the question still formed on his lips when he spoke. "If you're a woman, why are you dressing as a man?"

She grinned, and when she spoke, her voice was very clearly that of a woman's, rather than the neutral voice she used back in the bar. "It's a lot easier to get a job as a man than it is as a woman. Plus, I get paid more, and I've got a kid to feed."

Ciel almost choked. She looked as if she was in her early twenties, which was the time most women would already have a child, or if they were late, begin having children, but Ciel couldn't imagine _this_ cross dressing woman having any."You have a child?"

She blinked, then laughed out loud. "Oh, God no! No, the kid is my brother. He's fourteen, so he's about your age," She snickered, "That's a good one. Me? With a kid?" She shook her head to herself, smiling. The woman leaned over to a bedside table, opening a drawer and pulling out a cigarette packet and a lighter. She put the cigarette in her mouth, then lit it, taking a long drag, and then puffing it out through her nose like a bull. "So... You wanted info, right?"

Snapped out of thoughts, he nodded slowly, leaning against the door. "The Ferro Family."

Nodding herself, she took the cigarette out from between her lips, blowing out more smoke. "Italian mafia. Notorious for their loan sharking, drug growing and dealing, and theft. They've left a lot of good people on the streets." She shook her head, taking another pull of her cigarette.

Ciel's lips curled very slightly upwards in a satisfied smirk So, she knew what she was talking about, and the work to getting here hadn't been for nothing. "I told you earlier, I need to know their place of operations, and where they hide their drugs."

She exhaled her smoke, and Ciel coughed a bit. "I know where they operate, mainly. Or at least, a pretty good idea. Where they hide their drugs... If it's not hidden where they make it, I don't know. But, I'm sure you've got enough connections to have at least one person who can find it. Or," She smirked at him, a gleam of meaning in her eyes, "you can always... _Convince _them to tell you. I'm sure they'd comply, hm?"

Ciel almost smirked himself. She was clearly familiar with his methods, but unfortunately, he knew that she was purposefully being vague. "So, are you going to tell me?"

"Patience is a virtue, kid. But first," She held up a finger, narrowing her eyes, "I want to know what you're plannin' to do with this information."

Ciel hesitated a second, thinking. If she was affiliated with the Ferro family, then they would be aware of the plans, and Ciel would be found out. But, if he didn't tell her, he wasn't going to be able to fulfil his mission to the Queen, which was required of him. Well, he would, but it would take time in order to find a new source of information, and by the way she seemed completely confident in her words, she seemed to be the best source besides an actual member of the Ferro's.

He smirked. "My job is to stop the rat problem here in London. With this information, I will shut down their drug deals, and their mafia as a whole."

`She observed his face carefully, taking a drag of smoke and huffing it out. "Now, my second condition. I don't care how you shut up the Ferro's, honestly, they've been pissin' me off too long... But I get to help. And I get to place the bullet between Azzurro Vanel's god damn eyes. You can't find their location without me, so it's only fair that I get to get the kill shot."

Ciel straightened up a bit, looking her in the eyes. He was bewildered by the condition. What grudge did this woman have? Perhaps she had been a victim. "Why would you want to kill Azzurro Vanel?"

For the first time, she broke eye contact, taking the stub of her cigarette out of her mouth and pressing it into the ashtray at the bedside table, extinguishing it. She blew out a cloud of smoke in a deep sigh. "His loan sharks attacked my old man. My grandpa needed money, and I had only been working a week at that time, but the rent was due before my pay, and we were gonna get kicked out. Azzurro's men came to collect two weeks later, and even when my grandpa paid them back the loan he took out, they kept shoutin' and throwin' a god damn fit about interest, and I managed eventually kick them out. But..." She sighed and her expression darkened, and she brought her hands together in between her spread knees, and bowed her head a bit, "They got my grandpa as he was coming home from the docks. A neighbour of mine, Allen – good man – came to my house with grandpa over his shoulder, beaten and bloody. The bastards knocked out my old man's windpipe, so he's still having troubles breathing and talking."

Ciel didn't know what he had been expecting, but the hearing the entire story had not been it. Even when he scanned her face for any dishonesty, and he didn't see anything – the only thing he saw was pure regret and grief. Underlying the negative emotions, the familiar spark of a determination fuelled by the desire for revenge he knew oh so well. He paused in his reply to her, thinking thoroughly and carefully. The woman would probably hold them back in terms of combat if confrontation was involved, and really, the only positive outcomes for allowing her to help was that she would get them to the location and she was thirsty for the blood Azzurro Vanel. But... If, and only _if_, he allowed her to go after Vanel, Ciel could get out of wasting time with meaningless arguments with the Yard. So... Hm. Maybe she did have a bit more pros.

Though he was still wary, Ciel pressed a bit more, his visible eye narrowing. "Are those your only conditions?"

She nodded. "That's all."

He sighed, still having reservations. "I have a few conditions myself." He finally said, and she narrowed her eyes, then waved for him to continue. "You are not to make any attempt on my life. If you do, you will be taken down with force. If the situation where you're deemed a potential threat to me, you will not be allowed to accompany us." She nodded again, and Ciel held out his hand. "Then welcome aboard." She got up, and took his hand in her's, giving his hand a firm shake. Then, before she could say anything, Ciel interjected. "I would like to know your name, first."

She shook her head and shrugged to herself. "I don't see why it matters what my name is."

Before Ciel could answer, she moved to a dresser on the right wall, looking like she was going to pointedly ignore him, so he decided to wait until she was done… whatever she was doing.. She grabbed her jacket off the floor, put it on, then slid open a drawer of the dresser, slipping a dark object from it fast enough Ciel could not tell what it was, and placing it within her coat. She grabbed another object, and put it on top of her head, tucking her hair into the newspaper boy hat she had put on. She turned back to Ciel, and she walked towards him, and standing up to her full height, she seemed a lot taller than she had before when she was standing behind the bar.

Holding herself tall and alert, her posture switching over from the air of casual familiarity to the composure of a strict, experienced professional. She looked them both over, her eyes suddenly piercing, probing and examining the pair of men. "Have either of you got guns?" Her question hung in the air, the odd pause at the end of her sentence hanging in the air. Her casual, somewhat warm voice was gone. "Any weapons, of any kind?" She amended her last sentence, and peered at the males through the dark room.

Ciel felt his hand instinctively twitch up in an attempt to rest at his side where the holster to his small pistol hung, supported by a series of harnesses, safely hidden between the layers of his undershirt and his button up shirt. The pistol was small, barely larger than his hand, and was kept either on his back, or at his ribs, depending on how much he needed it hidden. He had brought it in case of any... unforeseen situation. Even though he knew Sebastian could – would – protect him, he had brought it as a simple precaution. Investigations were unpredictable, and the East End was crawling with gangs, mafia, thieves, and murderers.

Though he did not speak for a moment, he nodded slowly, like a sudden movement would trigger something in the woman. Before he could vocalize his confirmation, Sebastian spoke, his calm, velvet voice clearly ringing through the room.

"Of course, Miss. Both of us are armed." Ciel looked back, and the calm poker face of a smile was on his butler's face.

"Good," she said as she walked to the small closet on the other side of the room, and pulled a long, recognizable shape, and taking a strap and throwing it over her shoulder. Ciel's eye widened. What the hell was this woman doing with a high powered rifle?!

Ciel stared at her incredulously as she passed, and looked to Sebastian for confirmation of being legitimant, but he wasn't looking at Ciel to see the silent order; his eyes were firmly locked on the woman's back, eyes narrowed as if he were very deeply in thought and the slight curl his lips indicated... interest. That brought the young master's previous thoughts and questions of the strange and inexplicable woman to a screeching halt. Sebastian was rarely interested in... Well, much of anything. With the exception of cats, Ciel's soul, and, if Ciel remembered correctly, he could see the brightening of the butler's eyes in the face of a fight. Though he had yet to see anyone match or best his butler in combat, or anything for that matter.

Carefully eyeing Sebastian, Ciel silently vowed to ask the butler of his thoughts on the bizarre new, temporary addition to their team and crossed his arms. More likely than it wasn't, Sebastian had probably sensed on something about the woman, or had seen something hadn't Ciel picked up. Though he hated to admit it, only having one eye did... handicap Ciel, only a bit, but it stopped him from noticing anything out of the corner of his right eye.

The woman, while Ciel had been thinking, had stepped in front of him, and she cleared her throat less than subtly, smirking a bit while eyeing the space behind him. He looked up to her, then behind him, and he suddenly realized like lightning had struck him that he was blocking the door. Pushing down his embarrassment by replacing it with a light glare, Ciel balled his hands into fists, steeling himself in the process.

"You didn't answer my question." He said, eye narrowing at the woman.

She tilted her head, her smile widening, but the slight shift in her demeanor made the action seem almost... sinister. Ciel didn't back down, keeping his gaze steady on the woman, and it seemed that that had been the response she wanted, because the almost suffocating atmosphere dropped, and she chuckled lightheartedly, smirking. She paused a moment, finger at her lips. She was thinking. "My name is… Siobhan Cunningham."

The boy grunted, staring her down as he stepped aside, letting his suspicion show on his face. Without another word, the woman made a small hand gesture for the pair to follow her, opened the door and brushed past him.

Ciel could not help but think of the strange way she responded to his question. He looked to his butler, who gave the boy a look that showed that he agreed with the master. She was lying.

* * *

Though her night had not gone exactly as she planned, the woman found she couldn't complain. The Watchdog, though his reputation surpassed his boyish and childish appearance, was easy to deal with, and she appreciated that he wasn't friendly, but not rude, with just the right amount of hostility that she found it bearable. The kid, despite this, was very unlike any child she had seen before – despite living in the East End, where most children were thieves or starving, most would not look up towards an adult staring them down and would duck their heads and firmly look at the ground, while the little Phantomhive looked her dead on, like delinquent glaring down an authority figure. His words were fine sentences using fancy words – something no kid would have in this part of the city would have under their belt. It made him different from other children she had seen in her life, sure. But his whole act that he had was probably just a noble thing, used to spit on the ones deemed unworthy.

As a sudden thought occurred to her – a thought that made his little _act_ seem like the performance of a small toddler – as her lips pursed into a thin line to suppress a wide smile and a snicker. Though the brat seemed suspicious of her name, he had bought her lies, and he had gave it away that he believed her so clearly in his eyes, she could taste his gullibility in the air. Well, saying she had _lied_ was a harsh way of putting it – more like she had stretched the truth... a lot. Her name was the largest stretched, pulled so far that it was pretty much entirely a lie. Siobhan Cunningham was not her name, not by a long short. Then, there was the sob story about revenge for her grandpa. Her grandpa _had _been attacked, but not for the reason she had said, and not enough that he was crippled, just enough that he had visible bruises and cuts over his face and limbs. But, ageing people were weak, breakable. Push them over, and they break a bone. So, regardless of whether or not he was hurt badly or not, the fact that those rats, those _scum –_ had attacked _her _family under the pretence of wanting money? Lies. The money had been paid in full, even the ridiculous interest, but it was done out of spite for her. Oh, her blood had _boiled _at the gall of those thugs when Grandpa stumbled in through the door. Her activities weren't legal exactly, but at least she knew how to hide her bloody tracks.

Truth be told, after Grandpa took out that loan, she was forced to start working for the Ferro's to help the old man work it off. She had started by simply running drugs from the production house, a large apartment building to the south side of the East End, to the drug dealers who dealt the drug. When she showed some 'potential' after a couple of gangsters from a rival mafia had landed in a hospital after attempting to attack her, she was moved up, and started acting as a bodyguard for the dealers. By the time the debt was paid back, she was one of the people tasked with the destruction of those opposing the gang or those who got in the way. If she wanted to be fancy and give herself a nice, little spiffy title, assassin was the closest thing that came to describing what she did. When one of the higher ups told her that the debt was done, she worked barely two more weeks before she handed her resignation to the main man, cut all ties with the Ferro's and moved from the little shack by the docks to an apartment north of the 'End with Gramps and her brother.

But the boy didn't need to know all that. All that kid needed to know was that she could handle a gun, and she could handle it well. The round faced, blue-ish black haired boy... So foolish. But, at the same time as she couldn't deny that there was some naivety... She couldn't deny that the small boy, even younger than her bright, energetic younger brother, Joe, had no innocence left in his body. Joe's forest green eyes, shining with a strange mixture of mischievousness, knowledge and ambition, was a stark contrast to the young Earl, who bore hopeless, empty eyes of a deep blue. Put them side by side, and you had two opposites of a spectrum. Joe, lively and hopeful for his future, well fed despite living in an impoverished place, not skinny only because of the woman's constant work and well built from a lifetime of working in labour, and though built a bit lanky, he was strong, despite being just a boy and dressed in the rags of the poor. Then, put Ciel Phantomhive beside him, and its like a strong oak sapling that would grow might, tall and strong next to a withering bud of a dying plant. So small, thin legs holding up an equally thin body dressed in the finery of the nobles. Though he was a noble, the young earl seemed to be malnourished, or he wasn't able to gain weight. He looked fragile, but it was to be expected – a life of lavish foods and expensive clothes, with people doing everything and anything... Of course he was weak, he never needed to exert force or strength. Short, thin, a round, childish face with a large, beautifully colour cobalt eye, the other covered by an eye patch. For what reason he would need a patch, she didn't know, but it was there, and she couldn't help but wonder how it found it's way there on his face.

She shook her head, looking to the side, sitting in the front seat of Phantomhive's carriage with his butler, having opted to sit up front in case of any surprises from the Ferro's. She was not without precautions against the Watchdog's servant; she had her rifle securely in her lap, her knuckles white with how tight she held it in her grasp. Usually, she would be relaxed in a situation like this, knowing full well that her draw was quicker than her opponents, but with the Watchdog, you can never be too sure.

The dirty streets of the East End rolled by, illuminated by only the too dim moonlight, since only the occasional streetlight actually worked. In the richly decorated and built carriage, they stood out like a sore thumb, and the woman's skin crawled as she spotted an old man and a young girl looking at them from in an alley. The man stopped looking after maybe two seconds, leaning forward to the girl like a predator who finally had caught his prey. His target, a young, pretty blonde girl looking barely older than sixteen, leaned her head back, keeping her eyes locked on the woman, hollow, grey eyes gazing through her and piercing her to her core as the man began to drag her away. Swallowing her disgust at the vile man, the woman broke the eye contact, sighing and leaning to rest her forehead on her tightfisted hands as they passed the alley.

She felt eyes on her back, and she peeked to the side, to catch the butler staring at her, like a collector examining a fine antique. She lifted her head, eyes narrowed as she gazed back, her brows drawing together as she eyed the butler. He was handsome, undeniably, with shiny, raven locks of hair just barely reaching the middle of his neck, and reddish-brown, almost burgundy eyes, but it was hard to see clearly in the dim light of broken street lights. In fact, it was hard to see much of anything about the details of his face. All she could see was that his features were long and angular and defined – opposite to the round, childishness of his master. They had talked little, besides the woman offering him directions.

He smirked when he saw her looking, and when she shot her eyes briefly to his exposed, white teeth, she spotted two very sharp canines. She didn't know why, but something about this butler had her so on edge it was taking all her willpower not to try to escape. How had she not noticed the atmosphere he was giving off? And something about him was too... familiar. Like she had seen him before, but she knew for a fact that she had never seen him before. She had had somewhat of a staring contest with the butler back in the tavern, and his expression had been very similar to her's. What his reason was for staring, it was starting to wear on her nerves.

She curled her lips into a sneer, her eyes narrowed into slits. "Take a picture, butler, it'll last longer."

He seemed unabashed that he had been caught, and he finally stopped staring at her and looked back to the road, a velvety, low chuckle rumbling in his throat. She shivered for some reason, not knowing if it was from pleasure or nervousness, and scooted away a little bit, scowling.

After a pregnant pause, she pushed for conversation. Maybe he was better in conversation, rather than suffocating silence. "You don't talk much." Excellent start. She wanted to throw herself into the Thames. Conversation was _not _a talent of her's, and she was very bad at it by every measure.

But still, he looked back to her, the smirk ever present, and she stared into his eyes, then found that his eyes were not a reddish brown colour, as she had guessed from what she had seen in the dark, but were a bloody crimson. When he spoke, the woman felt her eyes widen, and she instinctively loosened her grip on her rifle in shock. "I did not see you make much of an effort, Miss Cunningham."

_Oh, hot __**damn**_. Though she rarely admitted it, she had a very acute weakness to men with good voices. Voices like the butler's, of smooth silky velvet, so clear in its tenor, with such noble pattern of speech that she usually couldn't stand... But ooh, he pulled it off so well that she barely even noticed.

Realizing that he was waiting for her reply, she shook her head and cleared her throat. "I... uh..." She cleared her throat again, "Didn't know if you even talked, to be honest. You were real quiet in the bar. And up in the room. And the walk to the carriage and the entire ride so far. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, Mr…um..." She hesitated a bit, scratching the back of her neck. "If ya said it, I never caught your name."

He smiled at her. "I'll tell you my name, if you tell me yours.", but it was how he said it, not what he said, that made a chill run down her spine. The menacing undertone beneath the seemingly idle chatter was impossible to miss.

She froze, but composed herself fast enough she didn't think the butler spotted the change. "I told ya before, but my name is Siobhan Cunnin–"

"You're lying." He said simply, and she looked up only to see him watching her out of the corner of his eye. He had an amused smile on his face.

She bristled, then her words rushed out in an irritated hiss as she dropped her somewhat weak attempt at professional facade. "So what if I am? It's not safe for people of the East End to go and tell strangers their real fuckin' name. It'll come and bite you in the ass eventually, so I like to avoid it. If you're with the Watchdog, you should be more familiar with the ways of the East End." She paused a second. "Take a left there."

He chuckled, low and smooth as he made the turn. "But you forget an important fact, Miss _Cunningham_." He put emphasis on her alias, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "What use would I have in telling someone your real name?"

"You can do a lot of damage usin' only a name, butler. Think about the names of your master. Say 'Ciel Phantomhive' or 'Watchdog' in any tavern 'round here loud enough, and it'll go quiet as a grave so fast you won't even be able to say a damn word."

The butler shrugged. "I am aware of the influence of the young master. However, this isn't about the names of my Lord, but rather on yours. Though it was a good example, you used a notable figure of power. You are a commoner living in the East End. If I may be frank, you hold no power."

Ouch. That one hurt, and by the way the butler's expression shifted, it was evident on her face. Her face burned in embarrassment, but she held his gaze. "You'd be surprised. After all, most people in the East End participate in questionably legal things. Some have more guts to go big, and havin' the real name of a dangerous criminal floating around it bad for their business, whatever it is. The Watchdog'll come after 'em."

The butler looked to her, raising an eyebrow. "You're from the East End as well, Miss. Have you had any dealings in illegal activities?"

"Don't see how that's any of your business, black." She snarled, letting go of her rifle to cross her arms around her chest.

"But it is. After all, if you _are _a criminal, convicted or otherwise, that would make you a threat to the master." He paused, his shit eating grin widening at her expression. "Then, I would have to remove you from the investigation."

"I never said I was a criminal." She protested.

He narrowed his eyes at her."You never said you weren't, either." He replied.

She let a sound of frustration that had been bubbling in her throat escape into a groan of indignation. "I don't like to lie, butler."

"How funny that you say that, since all you've said to me or the young master so far have been lies."

"Not everything!" She hissed, jerking up to glare heatedly at him. At his look, she faltered a bit. "Just a bit. But I know where the Ferro's make their drugs, and that should be enough."

"And how would you know that?"

She looked away, feeling her heart speed up a bit, knowing she was caught. "Everyone knows where they work."

"Oh, is that right? Everyone we questioned didn't seem to know."

She completely turned away from the butler, shrugging. "Maybe they were out of the loop. Happens."

She was spun around harshly by a hand at her shoulder. She shouted in protest as two fingers locked tightly and painfully to her chin, forcing her to look up at the butler. "Lying will do you no good. Now, tell me; are you, or are you not a criminal."

She directly at him, refusing to avoid his gaze. "I was."

He gripped her chin a bit harder, and she bared her teeth. "What did you do?"

"I ran drugs back and forth from the production to the dealers. Happy?" She tried to jerk her head away, but he held strong.

"For who?" He demanded, and his eyes hardened, which was very unlike the expression he had shown his master.

She pulled her rifle off her lap, and pressed it under his jaw. His brows drew together in a scowl when the cold steel connected with his skin warm skin, but he didn't jerk away or flinch, his lips only curled a bit in a snarl. "I worked for the Ferro's. My grandpa couldn't work the debt off alone, so I worked for them to help 'im. The minute the debt was paid off, I quit doing shit for them. Now let _go _of me before I blow your brains out the top of your fucking head."

In spite of the threat, the butler smiled. "This behaviour isn't something that would be called safe for the young master."

"I..." He had her there. Threatening to blow off someone's head was not something most sane or harmless people said. She bit her lip, trying to think. "If... If tell you my real name, will you let me come along? And not mention my actions of questionable legality to the Watchdog. I'd like to stay out of jail, thank you very much."

The butler cracked a smile – not a smirk, a genuine smile – but it was gone before she could really take a look, replaced with that smirk of his. "I don't see how _that _ is a fair deal. And why should I trust the word of someone who worked, and could still be working, for the Ferros'?"

"Uh…" Very good point. She pursed her lips, then let out a sigh. If she really wanted to go, she needed to come out clean. She looked the butler in the eyes, then spoke in a harsh tone of defeat. "I don't have anything else to offer. But, what I do know is that the Ferro's went after my old man because of fuckin' cowards went after a sixty year old man instead of goin' after me, and it caused a lot trouble for my old man and my brother. Azzurro took a few men, then attacked my gramps, which I told ya earlier. I don't know if you understand - frankly, I don't know if you understand. I _need _to kill Azzurro. He crossed me like a god damn coward, and he's goin' to die for it. And I promised my brother I would be the one to splatter his fuckin' head across the walls or I would die tryin'."

The butler looked at her with a suspicious expression, but it slowly shifted to surprised, like he had been shocked she was telling the truth. She sucked in a breath through her clenched teeth. The woman hadn't realized she had locked her jaw; perhaps she had to keep from saying too much.

The butler hummed a bit, in a sound that was almost approving. "Now that you're telling the truth, I will accept your offer. However, I have a condition." He paused, looking at her, waiting for her approval to continue. She nodded slowly. "You will tell the master your real name. But if you lie once more… Well, you know what will happen. "

She sighed in relief, then her breath caught on the inhale when she realized that she would have to tell him her name. Few people from out of the East End understood the fear of letting people know of their real name. Aliases were useful; once it had outlived its purpose, the false names was scrapped and the person could simply pick up and vanish. Pack up their things and move, and not a single person could track them. They were reusable, sure, but if needed, they could be tossed aside and another name could be used. Damian Williams could be exchanged for Jonathan Chambers. Siobhan Cunningham for Emma Ross. Each as changeable and disposable as the next, and real enough that any of her appearances within the name's rightful gender could be used.

But now, the only permanent name she had was about to be exposed to a man she had known for less than two hours. It was almost nerve wracking knowing something as simple as a name could do so much damage. She hesitated. Something as simple as a name would roll off the tongue of the average person, a simple comment that imprinted on the mind of another as their title. It was a reflexive action; instinctual. Someone asked your name, and you gave it. Simple. But for her, it was complicated beyond measure. Her name was known between two people; her Grandpa and her brother. That was all. Anyone else was dead.

She didn't speak for ten breaths. It shouldn't be, but it was difficult for her to say it. "Take a right here." The butler looked at her in annoyance, and she shrugged and fell silent once more, gathering her courage. When she finally spoke, in a whisper so quiet it was barely a breath. "My name is Annie. Annie Blackwood."

"There," he said, looking to the road as he turned, as per her instructions. "was that so hard?"

She was quiet a moment, before she regained her bravado and smirked a bit."It was agonizing. But, I told you my name, so it's only right that you should tell me yours."

He smirked. "That's only if you introduce yourself properly."

"Why do you insist on torturing me?" She complained.

"Because it's entertaining."

She groaned, leaning back in her seat for a moment until she finally gave up. "Fine." She placed a sardonic smile on her face, using a voice to match as she held out her hand for him to shake. "Hi, my name is Annie Blackwood. What's your name?"

He took her hand as they passed under a working street light. The light illuminated the two of them, and she could finally see his face.

He was like a god personified. His face was angular and well defined, with stunning yet piercing eyes, framed with dark eyelashes that caught the light, the colour of blood. His hair was a shiny raven black, styled a bit longer and while looking slightly overgrown, it was neat. He had a long, oval shaped face. She blinked, then swallowed, then tried not to think about how easy on the eyes he was.

He smiled pleasantly as he firmly, but not too roughly, shook her hand. "My name is Sebastian Michaelis." She was about to say something, or maybe just sigh and look at him for the rest of the trip, but then, as they passed from the light of the street lamp, she saw something that made her blood freeze in her veins and her heart drop to her stomach. His grinned, spreading his lips wide to show his sharp canines. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Her heart pounded in her ears and her eyes were wide, feeling like she wouldn't be able to look away from those eyes, but she forced herself to look away, something clawing into her stomach, spreading and numbing her like an illness. She tried to think, clear her thoughts, but she was internally in chaos. His eyes hadn't... She was hallucinating. Completely, one hundred percent. There was no way, it just wasn't possible...

There was no way that his eyes had been glowing like fire from the depths of hell.

* * *

**So, how was it? I would love to hear what people think. Review and constructive criticism are appreciated and welcomed. If there are any grammar mistakes, let me know and I'll fix them. My first language in terms of reading and writing isn't English, so I have trouble with grammar sometimes. Sorry in advance. ^_^|ll**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again! Sorry for the late update, but this chapter was put on hold when I did some **_**very **_**needed revising on the first chapter. Plus, my AN on that chapter was deleted when I fixed a bunch of stuff, so, I've put the note back, along with explanations, and I forgot to put the disclaimer. *sigh* How obvious is it that I'm new at this?**

**Anyway, the chapter has been revised with, including Annie's conversation with Sebastian. It was completely changed, and part of Annie was changed, due to necessity to the plot and her motive for vengeance. Working for Lao didn't make sense to me, so I switched it. Sorry for any confusion.**

**The perspective throughout the entire story will, primarily, be from Annie's point of view, but it will also often be from the point of view of Ciel. Rarely Sebastian, because he is a difficult character to have as the narrator.**

**Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji does not belong to me, it belongs to Yana Toboso. The OCs used in this story belong to me. **

* * *

Ciel was itching to reach the Ferro's, so much so he was bordering on frustration as he tapped his index finger impatiently. The woman, Siobhan, was supposedly bringing them to where they manufactured and prepared the drugs for distribution. Once Ciel got Sebastian to destroy the lab, it was only a matter of time before the Ferro's made themselves known to him, attacking him out of retaliation. It might be odd for someone, especially a child, to be calm and even encourage the idea of being attack, but Ciel was less than an ordinary child. His innocence had been stripped away, and it had left it's mark in the form of the brand on his back, forever scarred as a reminder to his skin.

Six hundred taps later, Ciel's patience began to wear thin, and he ground his teeth together tightly. It was taking far too long to get there, and the muted vibrations of talking from the front had ground to a halt. In a small part at the back of his mind, he wondered what Siobhan and Sebastian had been talking about, but the rest of his mind kept that buried at the back, his thoughts resting mostly focused on the task at hand.

Depending on how many guards there were, it might take a while for Sebastian to get inside - Siobhan would probably go with him - and destroy the operation and it's ring leaders. If there were minimal guards, it would be very quick, but Ciel had doubts they would leave it lightly guarded.

A small knock at the carriage door brought Ciel's eyes up. With a start, he realized the carriage had stopped. Sebastian opened the door, looking at a startled Ciel in amusement, and the boy internally seethed. He dismissed Sebastian's extended hand of aid and jumped down, spotting Siobhan leaning against a building. She had her arms crossed around her chest, her gun once again strapped to her back, her expression composed and calm. A seemingly fresh cigarette dangled from between her lips, and, keeping it in her mouth, she blew out a cloud of smoke from the side of her mouth.

Ciel grimaced at the smell of tobacco, but crossed the distance between them regardless. "What can you tell me about the operations going on at the Ferro's?"

She took the cigarette from her mouth, and used it to point a bit down the road. "It's in that big apartment complex down the road. It's got little balconies all 'round, so there are bound to be scouts. When I scoped it out a few days ago, it wasn't too heavily guarded, the odd man in the balconies chattin' with some others, but I saw it durin' the day. It's bound to be heavily guarded at this hour, since they ain't too widely liked, but I don't know for sure."

Ciel processed the information for a second, then let out a breath as he thought up a plan, his breath turning white in the cold. Though it was only September, it was oddly cold tonight. "Sebastian will go see the condition of the guards."

Sebastian nodded, but Siobhan immediately protested. "Wait! I'll go too."

Crossing his arms, Ciel regarded her curiously. "Why would we need two people looking?"

"Didn't ya listen to me, kid? There's gonna be guards in the balcony. If they spotted your butler, he's dead." Ciel held back his chuckle, but Sebastian didn't. The low rumble was not lost to the woman, who looked at the butler curiously. "What? You got a deathwish, black?"

"Not at all. But your reasoning is based on the idea I'll be caught, and if I was caught, what kind of butler would I be?"

She looked at him with narrowed eyes. "A dead one." Ciel snorted, and Siobhan looked back to the earl. "I've got a rifle. I'll be able to pick off some of them before we go in. It'll make it quicker, then all of us can go on our merry way."

Ciel looked her over a moment, before sighing. "Fine. You'll go with Sebastian."

"Before we go," Sebastian said, looking at his master, "Young Master, perhaps it would be safer for you to stay in the carriage. There will be fighting, without a doubt, and we wouldn't want you to get injured."

Ciel crossed his arms defiantly across his chest. "Absolutely not. This is my investigation."

Siobhan cleared her throat, and both males looked to her. She pushed off the wall, blowing out a puff of smoke from her cigarette. "How 'bout a compromise? Me and Sebastian go through first and clear out the guards outside, which is where they'll be most of 'em will most likely be placed. Then, we'll come back and get ya, and you can come along for the rest of it. After all, I assume you want to light the match when we blow this bitch to kingdom come?"

The boy smirked, rolling his eyes. "You'd assume right." She scoffed, and Ciel continued with a sigh. "I suppose that's fair. But make it quick, Sebastian. That's an order." Ciel felt the familiar burn behind his right eye,

"Of course, my Lord."

Siobhan took a few steps forward, her eyes wide in an expression of recognition. Ciel felt his heart speed a bit in a mix of anticipation and anxiousness. Had she seen Sebastian's eyes change? The earl shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was too quick, and even so, she wouldn't know what it meant. It was very unlikely for anyone to tie demon to glowing eyes. Plus, she could just think it was a trick of the light.

"Here." Siobhan handed Ciel a dark object, and his fingers instinctively closed on what felt like a handle. She had pressed a revolver into his palm.

_Ah. So she had grabbed a revolver earlier, in her room. _Ciel shook his head, handing it back to her by the barrel. "I have my own."

She shrugged, taking it back and placing it back into her coat. "Alright, the best, ideal scoutin' spot would be in a building across from the lab, but since they're lookin' for someone to go from straight across, we'll have to go a little farther from the place. Their aim will be trained across from their precious lab. So, we gotta go to the that tavern a little bit aways, but I've got my scope, so I'll be able to see fine."

Ciel nodded, then made a dismissive gesture with his hand while turning back to the carriage. "Let's get this over with."

Both adults nodded as the door shut behind the Earl.

* * *

Once the boy was inside, Annie took a second to look at the complex. Three levels, adding to the two levels under the ground, with many, small windows and enough balconies that, in theory, it should be easy to infiltrate. Depending on the issue of the number of guards, she was unworried about being injured. She trusted that she was a better shot than the Ferro's lackeys, and that she was the quicker faster draw, but what she had in skill, they made up for in numbers. It was more than likely that it would be heavily guarded; after all, this was their main location of production. They grew, cooked, and mixed their drugs here. The few times she had received packages during the night, it had been crawling with guards, and she had to go through two different tests of her identity. Well, the identity she had known to the Ferro's.

She hooked a finger towards the butler in a signal for him to follow her as she walked to the curb of the street. She looked both ways carefully, making sure no one - especially the Ferro's - were coming, before dashing across the street. She could hear the almost silent, quick tapping of Sebastian trailing behind her. They swiftly walked away from the apartment complex, Annie making a small sign with her hand for the butler to stand beside her.

He did, and she spoke rapidly. "We'll have to climb the buildings. It's too late for anyone sober to be making it home, and actin' drunk and loud would instantly catch their attention, so we can't go through the resident buildings. Try to keep up, butler."

Then, without warning, she turned into the alley between a tavern and apartment building, and broke into a sprint. She ran up a stack of crates placed against the brick walls, and, at the tallest crate, she jumped to a balcony on the second floor, her fingers grabbing the railing of the protective fence around it and her feet sliding in between the closely packed poles. Her body - her hips and upper legs, to be exact - slammed against fence, and she grunted in pain. She was bound to bruise from that.

She pulled herself up to stand on top of the railing, one hand on the wall, the other for balance, and precariously wobbling before she got her balance back. Feeling an ache spread through the front of her thighs and her abdomen as she moved, she reached out to her target - a somewhat deep set window with a prominent sill to place her feet, with deep ridges above it for her to climb to the roof. The ridges seemed like they had been carved from the concrete, so Annie assumed they had been put there by either the owner of the window, or by someone who wanted a sure, quick get away

She stretched out her leg and free arm as far as she could without letting go of the stable wall, not even being able to place the tip of her boot against the corner. She would have to let go of the wall and jump. She spared a look to the butler on the ground, who was watching her with muted look of expectancy. Most likely wanting to see what she would do, and how she would go about it. Annie slowly let go of the ridges in the brick, allowing herself less than a second to balance out, before leaping to the window, grabbing the side of the frame to lessen or halt her momentum, then firmly planted her feet against the sill. She slid to the side a bit, then almost feel back to the ground, but she managed to get her grip against the frame window after a desperate grab.

Sucking in a breath of relief, she reached up and curled the fingers of right hand on the top of the window to grip it with practically only her fingertips. She jumped, throwing her other hand up to grip the ridges above her head, digging her hand into the ridge to secure herself above the wall, then began to climb up the wall, only using the powerful muscles in her arms until she could place her feet on the ridges. Once she was able to, she stood to her full height, grabbed the edge of the roof, and hoisted herself up.

She stood up on the roof, running along the shingles to crouch behind the cover of the chimney when she heard the light tapping of the butler behind her. She looked back, and a grin spread across her face. "Nice of ya to join me, Mr. Sebastian."

The butler said nothing as he quickly and silently moved to kneel beside her in cover. She pulled the rifle off her back, and held the scope to her eye. She felt a sneer contort her face. The apartment building had high, thick walls and a locked gate that created a courtyard around the front and most likely the back, but it mixed with the wall of the building itself. The balconies had walls between them, most likely meant for privacy, would protect other guards from detecting their fallen comrades. There were three balconies each level, and there were three levels. Nine balconies, with two guards each. . Two guards stood outside the walls, and two guards stood on top. Inside, there were guards patrolling around the building in pairs, at least three groups, and in the balconies were scouts, also in pairs. On the ground were ten guards, simply standing watch. Six patrol guards, give or take a few, eighteen recon guards, and about ten standing guard in the courtyard, adding up to at least thirty, since the amount of patrols was unknown to her, and that was only around the front.

Annie was good at fighting. Hand-to-hand, sniping, close range - you name it, and she probably had it down to an art form. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew skill alone wouldn't be enough to kill them all; they would need a hell of a lot of luck, especially since she didn't know the skills of Sebastian. For all she knew, he could be a bumbling idiot in fighting, but the way it seemed right now in his silence, it seemed like he knew what he was doing, but she didn't know his skill set. There were so many unknowns - too many. The only comfort she was offered was the pay in her pocket and fire of adrenaline burning and bubbling in her veins, but now, the pay seemed a bit like it should have been a lot more. An image of Joe passed through her mind, and her fingers clenched around her gun. If she wasn't careful… If she didn't watch herself… Joe and Gramps would be alone to fend for themselves. She wouldn't - she _couldn't_ - let that happen. They needed her. Hell, _she_ needed _them._

A few choice words slipped from her lips. "There's at least 30 guards down there. There's probably more inside." Her words were clipped, precise, and whatever joking atmosphere she carried with her was gone, banished along with her memories and images of her family. "Take a look, butler. Tell me if ya spotted anything I missed." She lowered the rifle from her eye and thrust it into the hands of the butler. He had an amused smile on his face, like something about her giving him the gun was funny. She scowled. "I'm only givin' ya the gun for you to look in case you see anything I don't, asshole. I want it back afterwards."

He smirked, then lifted the scope to his eye and looked at the apartment. He seemed unfazed when he looked. "There are two more on the other side of the door, and in the room to the far right, on the second floor, there are numerous guards." He let the scope fall away from his eye. "The lab is most likely there."

She nodded. "They must've moved it, but it doesn't really matter." She took the rifle when it was offered back to her. She opened it up, loading two bullets into the barrel with practiced speed and ingrained familiarity with the weapon. She clipped it shut, then took the silencer she grabbed out of her coat and screwed it on. "This gun holds two bullets at a time, then I've gotta reload, which won't take long, but it takes up a few precious seconds. Seconds count in a firefight." At Sebastian's somewhat confused expression, she grinned, a almost manic gleam in her eyes. "How well do ya handle a bit of dangerous pressure, Mr. Sebastian?"

* * *

Annie kept her gun trained on the back of the butler's skull. As part of the plan, he was going to walk towards the gates and draw the guards away from the front door. Once they were away from the doors and out in the dark, Annie would take out the two guards from the gate, reload as fast as she could, move to a location where she would have a better view, and would take out the two on the walls. Sebastian, while she was taking out as many guards as she could before the gangsters figured out they were being attacked, would break open the gate. Once they started to shoot guns with the gate open, she would go down to the ground and help Black take them out.

Simple.

Sebastian walked in the middle of the middle of the street, being as unsubtle as she had told him to be. The two guards called loudly to the butler, and involuntarily, Annie winced, as the guards took revolvers from their belts, pointing them at Sebastian as he finally stopped walking. They slowly marched toward the butler, ordering him to turn around and leave. Instead of heeding their order, Sebastian shot the most perfect shit eating grin Annie had ever had the privilege of witnessing at the guards. She almost snickered at the expression; a close eyed, wide smile. The guards were offput, seeming disturbed, but before either of them could open their mouth, the one closest to Annie had a bullet drilled between his eyes. _One. _The other turned in shock, and due to the apt location, he was given a hole in his temple. _Two._

Both guards fell to the ground in a heap, their now barely resisting bones twisting on impact with the ground. Sebastian looked back, an expression of what could only be satisfaction and pleasure on his handsome face. She shot him an obvious signal of clear, her index finger touching her thumb while the rest of her fingers spread away to show the 'o' shape between her finger. She then picked up her rifle and, quickly but quietly, jumped to the roof next to her building, crossing it as fast as she could before the two guards on the walls could raise the alarm. She jumped the gap between the building she was on and the building where she would set up, and she slid into cover when she saw the guard on the wall move towards her.

She reloaded her rifle as fast as she could, her eyes staying on Sebastian to make sure he wasn't left defenseless, even though she couldn't do anything until she loaded her rifle. She put the two bullets into the gun, and placed part of it on the ridge to steady it as her eye rest to rest in from of the scope. She did a quick count of the guards on the wall and the guards in the balcony, and any on the ground. Thirty two guards in total, including the two laying on the ground in a heap.

Her eyes hardened and her expression went was gonna be close_. _If she wanted it to be a silent slaughter rather than a war zone, she was going to have take time for precise accuracy and speed; quick shots and even quicker reloads. She just had to clear Sebastian's way, and they were home free. But as it was right now, Annie's mind had stopped particular thought, slipping into a feeling haze while feeling every sight, sound, taste and touch sharpen to crystal clarity. It was not wondering about Joe. Her Grandpa was not spared another thought. Her thoughts rested solely on her targets. On the men who would be dead by the time the night was out.

Sentimentality and nostalgia had no place on the field of battle. Thirty two guards against an ex-assassin and a butler. But the character of the person didn't matter. Right now, numbers were numbers. Odds were odds. She and Sebastian were vastly out-manned and out-gunned, but regardless of that, Annie liked their odds.

Annie steadied her gun while she lined up the shot, her directed towards the forehead of the man on the left side of the walls. To her, sniping had become almost a religious practice, due to the fact that it needed preparations to line up a good shot. Steady your gun, aim for your target, inhale deeply, and pull the trigger on the exhale. Steady, aim, breathe, squeeze. Easy. She chanted it in her head like a mantra, not allowing herself to forget. She shifted her weight a bit to the side, almost out of cover, but with enough of her still in cover that she would be able to dive back if she needed to. This way, the momentum of the bullet would send him outside the courtyard, rather than into the inside.

She inhaled deeply, then let out her breath as she pulled the trigger. Her shot rang true and with the muffled bang of the shot, quieted by her silencer, a splatter of blood appeared on the ground, and her target fell off the wall with a muted thud. _Three._ She maneuvered her body to the opposite side of the wall, to the other guard. Steady, aim, breathe, pull the trigger, and the other guard fell to the opposite side of wall. _Four._

She reloaded mechanically, snapping the barrel back into place, then settled back into position. Start from the top, and work her way down. She landed two shots into the top left balcony. _Five. Six._ She reloaded, and inclined her head toward Sebastian, gesturing for him to start working on cracking open the gate. He nodded, moving towards the gate as Annie trained her sight on the two in the middle balcony. The man's gloved fingers worked at the lock, and Annie dropped another guard. _Seven._ His partner had made a faint cry, small and feeble from shock, but he was silenced before he raised an alarm. _Eight. _Annie reloaded, then took out the last guards of the top floor. Both almost fell forward, but then they fortunately fell back. _Nine. Ten._

The gates made a very distinctive clicking noise. She spared a glance down to Sebastian, and he was looking at her, as if waiting for a cue. It suddenly dawned on her that she was entirely in charge of the plan, and the operation. It made her heart speed up at the challenge. She shook her head towards the man, making a universal sign for 'not safe' by using her hand to mimic slashing her own throat, then pressing her fingers against her lips for him to keep quiet and then pointed for him to go towards the cover offered by the wall. He did, and she landed another shot in the temple of a guard, quickly followed by his partner, but he fell forward against the railing and flipped over it, landing on the ground. _Eleven. Twelve._

Every guards turned around towards the body, and shouts of alarm starting ringing out through the area as they began to draw their guns. Cover blown, Annie gave up silence and shouted above the chaos to the butler. "Now, Sebastian!"

Sebastian turned into the courtyard as Annie reloaded, and she cocked the barrel back into place and sniped a two guards who had raised their guns first, and she sacrificed accuracy for speed, landing a shot in their torsos. _Thirteen. Fourteen._ She pushed new bullets into their slots faster than she had ever before, then turned back and fired. _Fifteen. Sixteen._ Sebastian stayed in cover, but then he popped out and from what she could see, he was throwing something. She couldn't see what, but he was throwing it fast enough and with enough force that four guards collapsed. She counted his kills. _Seventeen. Eighteen. Fourteen to go._ She spotted a few guards coming from the back to the front, about six of them, and she cursed, grabbing the strap of her rifle and slinging it over her shoulder while drawing her pistol. _Scratch that, twenty to go. Great._

She looked down off the edge, then jumped off the edge and grabbed the roof before she could plummet to the ground. She let go, halting her fall on the frame of a window, and she spared a look at the ground. It was just a little bit to the ground, and there was what looked like a market stall in front of the building she was hanging off of. She wasn't sure why it was there, but damn, was she glad it was. She let go of the window frame, taking her feet off the sill and letting herself drop on to the stall. The fall was short enough that the stall covering caught her fairly well, only ripping a bit and causing her to sink into the hole of the fabric.

Lifting herself from the rip, Annie was almost instantly bombarded by gunfire. She dove to get out of their range, rolling, then feeling her back scraping against the ground while sliding against the oddly slick cobblestone, which was uncomfortable, but she managed to avoid the bullets. Letting the tips of her boots catch against the ridges in the stone, she was propelled into standing up, and she ran forward, completely out of range. She ran over to the opposite side of where Sebastian was hiding.

Firing off a four shots into the guards, who had all either gone into improvised cover or laid dead, quickly counting the new corpses on the ground. _Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty one. _She had missed a shot. She looked to Sebastian, and he seemed as completely unharmed as she was. Though she could distantly feel the scrapes all up and down her back, it was barely a thin, small cut to her current thoughts. She watched the butler pulled thin, shiny objects from his jacket, and before she could see what they were, he threw them into the throng of guards. Five guards fell. _Twenty two. Twenty three. Twenty four. Twenty five. Twenty six. Twelve to go._

She buried the last two bullets in her gun into the skulls of two men peeking out of cover. Annie ducked back into cover, letting out a small 'cover me' to the butler as she reloaded. She felt four distinct cries of the dying. _Twenty seven. Twenty eight. Twenty nine. Thirty. Eight to go._

Annie clicked the revolver's cylinder back into place, then took aim and fired three precise shots into the chests of three guards. _Thirty one. Thirty two. Thirty three. _They dropped, but bullets flew at her, forcing her back into cover. Sebastian threw more of his objects, and when she looked, she saw a man grasping his throat, and a man with an object jutting out of his head. _Thirty four. Thirty five. _

Sebastian and Annie met each other's eyes, and both nodded at the same time, coming out of their cover and charging into the courtyard, where the last three men were hiding. One man peeked out of cover, but before Annie lifted her pistol, a knife had buried itself to the hilt in his forehead. _Thirty six. _The other two were nowhere to be seen. Annie stepped forward, peeking behind a few bullet filled crates that had been pulled up for cover, but saw no one. She turned around the corner, turning her back against it, and didn't notice the man sneaking up behind her.

She spun around to late, and saw the barrel of a gun aimed at her. She dove out of the way as the familiar, deafening bang rang through the empty courtyard, and she felt a slice on her right cheek. Two inches to the left, and she would've been dead. The man seemed confused, blankly staring at his gun, then her face, then back to his gun, as if he was in complete shock at the fact he had missed at point blank range. Her instincts spun into action when he clicked back the hammer of his gun for another shot, and she reached out to the shooter, grabbing his right arm -the arm holding the gun- from the outside with her left, forcing him to point it away from her, twisting his wrist until it snapped and he dropped the gun. In his moment of surprise and pain, she yanked him towards her, broken wrist and all, in the direction his arm had been she had moved the gun. The gunman's eyes went wide as her other arm wrapped around his neck, and her other hand went to grip the other side of his face. The muscles of her arms tensed and with a powerful jerk to the left, his neck cleanly snapped and he went limp. _Thirty seven._

She dropped him on the ground, letting the corpse fall from her arms. She looked up, and though she saw the last man gurgle on the blood filling his throat from the bloody red smile caved into his throat, he barely caught her attention. Her attention was squarely on the butler standing behind him, his white gloves splattered with blood, strong arms holding up the dead body as if it was a doll, the small specks of red smeared against his pale cheek, matching his crimson eyes. It might have seemed frightening to someone else, but for some reason, she was far from afraid. She was entranced. He turned his head and locked eyes with her, and they were both lost in the quiet and calm left behind by the fight, the only sound after the chaotic battle being the wind blowing against their ears running through both of their scalps.

_Thirty eight._

* * *

**So, how was the bit of action? I was going to continue this chapter, but I kind of felt like this was a good place to end it. I might go back and revise it, but… I don't know. I'm kinda pleased with the way this one came out.**

**With the whole 180 in terms of personality Annie does during the fight will be addressed. Don't worry. :D**

**Ummmm… It might take me a little while to do the next chapter, but it will come as soon as I can. I've got doctors appointment tomorrow and I'm also getting my x-ray results (Before anyone asks, I've been told by an osteopath that I have scoliosis, so I'm finally getting it looked into. I have pretty bad back pain), and on top of that, I'm gonna be travelling soon, so I'll be a bit busy. But I'll try to get it out as soon as I can! **

**Thanks again for reading!**

**UPDATE: Fixed some big errors in the fight scene. Also other things. If I remember anything else, I'll go back and fix it.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Kuroshitsuji anime or manga. I do own my OCs and the OC plotline, however.**

**Warning: This chapter deals with violent themes. The gorier parts will be mark with a * as a warning. If you are triggered by descriptive violence and gore, proceed with caution and skip the marked paragraphs. Each sentence/paragraph dealing with the subject matter will be marked. Viewer discretion is advised. **

* * *

Annie had been the first to break the eye contact, and when she did, she looked around at the corpses. All of them were accounted for in her mind, but curiosity got the better of her, and she went over to the man Sebastian had taken out. She crouched down to inspect the body, and started when she saw the silver hilt of a knife. She ripped it out of the man's skull with little difficulty, then accidently let out a laugh.

The butler had been using _silverware._

Originally, it had been such a bizarre thing that she laughed, but when she gave it a little thought, it became distinctly less funny. He had been throwing these knives like they have been professional throwing knives with deadly accuracy. She attempted to balance the bloody utensil on the middle joint of her index finger, and it fell forward. It was unbalanced, making the feat of accuracy even more impressive. Annie ran her finger over the blunt edge of the knife, her brows furrowed in thought. He would've had to throw the knife with the force of a bullet for it to stab in so deep, especially when going through the skull.

She dropped the bloody knife, standing up to go pick up her revolver. As she reached down to grab her revolver, which she dropped in the brief fist fight, a very sharp stab of pain ripped across her right shoulder, earning a hiss. She looked, and saw red blood covering her shoulder. She turned abruptly, facing her back to Sebastian as assessed the wound. Staining the fabric of her shirt from the point of pain to down her side and her arm, blood oozing from a bullet sized hole in her shoulder. She had been shot. She hadn't realized with the surge of adrenaline and the warm feeling she usually got in fights, but now that both had faded, the pain lashed back with a vengeance. Absently she touched the wound with her fingertips, and smeared blood onto her hand.

Sebastian looked to herat the sound of pain, and in the quiet, Annie heard his approach. "Miss Blackwood?" He asked pleasantly, mild concern in his velvety voice.

She shook her head, keeping her back turned to him while subconsciously clenching her hand into a fist. If she was injured, she would be sent away, and she couldn't afford that. She did _not _go through that firefight just to get told to go back to the carriage. "I'm fine, Black. Go back to the carriage and go get your master. I'll clear out the rest of the house. They're not gonna have enough guards for me to need back-up."

The butler didn't immediately turn and go to his master. He stayed, planted to the spot. "You're injured, Miss Blackwood. You need medical assistance."

"I said I'm fine." She insisted, but a hand clapped onto her unharmed shoulder and spun her around, and she looked up to the towering form of the butler, glaring.

"You will bleed out, and you are right handed, are you not?"

She shook him off, stepping out of his reach. "I'm ambidextrous, and I've taken out more with worse wounds. I'll be fine, butler. And the little Earl is close by, so it's like I'm gonna be without your invaluable protection for long, Mr. Michaelis." The last part of her sentence was layered thickly with sarcasm.

He regarded her carefree, somewhat mocking expression for a little longer, until he let out a sighed with thinly hidden exasperation laced underneath. He turned, walking out of the courtyard and in the direction of the carriage. Annie watched him go, letting her expression knit into a calm poker face, and once he turned the corner, she absently reloaded her pistol and rifle, hatching a plan as she did so. Some were too complex, and after several plans ran through her mind at a thousand kilometers a minute, she decided simple was the best way to go. Maybe she should just open the door and go from there, improvising along the way. That would work.

She felt herself faze into complete focus, all while blocking out other thoughts besides the current task at hand. No thought was put into anything else. There was nothing but the plan running through her mind. The throbbing pain in shoulder faded as it lost it's importance, and adrenaline spiked her blood like a drug and moved her body into action. A warm feeling in the pit of her gut appeared at the prospect of a fight, and the warmth coursed through her limbs and warmed her fingers. She clenched them around the hilt of her gun, opening the revolver's cylinder, and looking at the bullets inside. Her trusted revolver held six bullets, her rifle held two. Two guns, eight bullets. Eight bullets to place in eight men who would find their end, looking through the barrel of her gun.

The thought of their fear made her feel disturbingly warm inside, as sick as it was.

Annie looked to the door, her mind pulling her body into action, bringing her to the door of the apartment in a few long strides. Instead of ducking into cover and looking inside for hostiles, like she usually would, she changed the hand that held her pistol, then held it at her side as she simply pushed open the door. Two men stood on the other side, and she lifted her her wound was effecting her more than she originally had suspected, she thought, while burying a bullet into the skull of a man standing near the door. The other man soon follow when blood spurted from a hole in his chest. She had been close enough for the blood to splash against her cheek, mingling with the blood from the wound on her cheek. She swiped the blood away callously.

She paused, looking down the hallway. Around the middle, it branched out in the middle into a four way hall, and there were four doors between her and the four way. She went to the first door on the right, and seeing no one, she moved to the next, kicking it open when it was locked. A man, sprawled, fully clothed lay on top of the bed bed inside, and most likely either wasted or high off his mind, he shot up like he had been shocked, and fortunately - or unfortunately, depending which side of the gun you were on - gave Annie a very nice view of his forehead. She shot him without a second thought.

Going across the hall to the second set of doors. The other doors were uneventful. Besides the mess of the labs or mess left behind by drug users or violent drunks, no one was inside the doors. Before going past the four way break in the hallway, Annie checked both ways, and let out a few curses in Russian when a group of seven men opened fire on her from the north west side of the hallway. So, all the fighting outside hadn't been lost to these bunch of idiots. Surprising, really, by how unprepared the two mobsters guarding the door were.

She ducked into cover, replacing the one bullet used on the man earlier into her gun. She steadied her nerves, then turned towards the gang members. Recognition flicked across the face of one of them, but soon his face, along with is head, was nothing more than a smear on the wall. She took out another man with a submachine gun before being forced to retreat back into cover. Reloading her gun once more, she aimed and fired through the chests' of three of the men. _Two left_, she thought, completely indifferent as one of the men panicked in the form of screams of terror. A gunshot not belonging to her went off, and he fell silent.

Even in her current state of mind, the sound made her pause. When she checked, she saw the kid on the ground with a bullet in his temple, and his gun was locked in his fingers. Though she managed to choke off her scoff, she couldn't wipe the smirk off her face and something more sane and more human deep inside her twisted in disgust at her finding it funny. She wanted to agree with it, but it _was_ somewhat funny that he found _her _scary enough to warrant putting a bullet in his own head. For one final time, she stepped out of cover completely, planted her feet shoulder width apart, lifted her pistol and squeezed the trigger. The bullet found it's mark in neck. He fell with a gurgle, and the sound of someone clearing their throat made her spin around, her pistol aimed. Without regarding the target, her finger tightened around the trigger of the gun-

Sebastian grabbed both of her wrists with one hand, pushing her hands up so the shot went into the ceiling, rather than the skull of the Watchdog, who looked almost surprised, or shocked. At the intervention of the butler, and his very real - almost too real - touch on her wrists, Annie felt her almost trance like state begin slip away, and she shook her head a bit once reality hit her like a ton of bricks. Her focus, which had been completely on her mission, started to branch out, and she realized that blood had not been the only thing to splatter against her. On her finger, something solid was hooked to the fingernail of her bloody hands. She shook it away with a noise of disgust.

"Very impressive, Cunningham," Phantomhive said, his cool poker face on his face once more. "Even more than I anticipated. And it's even more impressive with that wound on your shoulder."

Annie felt a small pang when he called her by her alias. Though he didn't know the name was fake, she couldn't help but feel _guilty_. She wasn't sure why, but everything about the boy reminded her of Joe, despite the fact that the two children had absolutely nothing in common. Warmth, powered by adrenaline and the fuzzy feeling she got while fighting, still coursed through her body, but she had a suspicion that now the warmth was partially the blood coursing down her should. Annie absently wondered if the kid was cold.

"I'm gonna take that as a compliment, Phantomhive. Now, if you don't mind, we should probably haul ass before the higher ups try to escape. The stairs to the second floor are this way."

Ciel nodded, and then inclined his head to the butler as the silent command for him to follow her. At the look the butler gave the boy, her stomach clenched in something that could only be instinctual fear. He looked… _hungry._ Like he wanted to _eat_ the boy. Not in a sexual way - in a darker part of her mind, she wish that was it - but as in he wanted to sit down with the boy laying on a table and feast on the boy's flesh. Paired up with the fact the butler's eyes glowed, something was very, very, very off.. She couldn't put her finger on what was so sickening about they interacted. Sure, the whole hunger thing was pretty fucking weird, but there was also the butler's eyes…

The first time she spotted the glowing eyes of the butler, she had simply brushed it off as being a trick of the light. The second time, however, in light too dim to be a mistake, had her on edge. Something wasn't right. Human eyes don't _glow._ They just don't. Simple fact that they don't. Cats and Dogs had eyes that would reflect light oddly in the dark. Sometimes humans had something similar if light was shone in their eyes. But this wasn't the same. His eyes had not only glowed, but they had shifted colour from the odd red colour of his eyes to an even odder shade of red, with flickers of oranges, yellows, and dark pinks, shifting and flickering like fire. Eyes. Did. Not. Flicker. Like. Fire.

The butler occupying most of her thoughts caught her gaze, and smirked in response, as if he knew what she was thinking about. She looked away, focusing her eyes on the end of the hallway, where the stairs were located. Their arrived without incident, and she paused at the foot of the stairs. She held up a hand, gesturing for the butler to stop. He did, pausing and coming to a halt behind her. Annie held her finger to her lips, then looked up the stairs. Her eyes caught the one of the mafia members at the top, but she didn't have to time to see how many there actually was as he dropped a small circular object towards them. Annie stepped back so it wouldn't fall on her head, and she studied it half a second before realization set in.

She turned as fast as she could, throwing her arms out towards Sebastian in an attempt to shove him away. "Grena-" Annie began to cry out, but was cut off when grenade exploded. She felt two hands on her wrist, yanking her away from it, but the shock wave threw her forward more effectively than the hands pulled her away. She was practically thrown against the ground, and let out a small yelp as her head made harsh impact on the floor, making her sight double and go dark around the edges. A darker, heavier form shielded her from the remains of the blast. She squeezed her eyes shut unconsciously, until she was sure the shrapnel was done skittering in every direction.

Annie opened her eyes hesitantly, and saw only the doubled, unfocused image face hovering too close to her's. She tried to focus her eyesight, and after a minute, her eyes cleared, the two images dancing across her vision focusing into one singular Sebastian.

Who happened to be inches from her face.

Her eyes locked on his face, and she silently hoped her face wasn't scarlet. If it was possible to look politely relieved, his face would have been the textbook definition. " Are you hurtt? I'm sorry to have thrown you down so hard, but I had little time to be gentle."

Annie felt her breath hitch in her throat, and by the wide smile that spread across his face, it was audible. He was so _close. _And, even though she had known him less than a few hours, she didn't really mind. Not only was he handsome enough that it was inhuman, but he also smelled good. Odd thing to say, sure, but it was very, _very_ true. He smelled like spices and teas - most likely from his occupation as a butler - with the faint underlying musk she couldn't put her finger on. Like a mix of rich earth and… Iron, oddly enough. She couldn't even begin to think why he'd have these smells on him. Feeling like she had spent too much time looking at him and just basking in him, she slowly shook her head, reaching the hand from her unharmed arm to the back of her head. She felt no blood. Good. She nodded more forcefully to the butler, to ensure him. "Beside my arm, I'm fine, butler. I would've been killed if I had kept that close to the blast. Thanks. I owe you."

He smirked in a way that unsettled her. "Do you now?"

Before she could respond to that, Phantomhive walked into the stairwell, his eyes wide. "What happened?" He looked at the two on the ground and suddenly turned red, sputtering. With the looked of embarrassment the boy was giving them, Annie suddenly realized how… compromising the situation appeared. She cleared her throat, looking at Sebastian and inclining her head as a gesture for him to get off. He blinked, then he did, offering her a hand to help her up. She took it, pulling herself off the ground. Her mind whirled when she stood up, causing her vision to go dark around the edges again as she stumbled. Two strong arms gripped her shoulders so she didn't fall as she tried to steady herself from the violent head rush. _Maybe I did hit my head, _she thought, a pounding headache forming at the back of her head It wouldn't kill her, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like a bitch.

She looked toward the stairs, frowning. "The fuckers standing up at the top of the stairs like _a bunch of fucking cowards_-" She spoke the last part a bit louder, so said cowards could hear her, then turned to the boy, crossing her arms across her chest, "dropped a _god damn_ grenade on our heads. To answer your question, Watchdog. They probably did it buy time for the bosses runnin' the lab to have a chance to escape." She paused a second, thinking. "Or kill us. They're ain't real fond of me. Us. Whatever." She amended.

The boy slowly nodded, the evidence of blush still on his cheeks, then began to string out a bunch of questions. "Will the bosses be able to escape?"

"Nope. Only stairway in the building is the one above our heads. If they were really itchin' to live, they would jump from the balcony, but… They'd probably break their legs, and we'd hear them hit the ground. Then they'd be dead anyway. So they're probably still squatted up there, cowering with guards outside their door."

"Are they still at the top the stairs?" Phantomhive asked. Maybe 'asked' gave him too much credit; it was more of a demand.

Annie narrowed her eyes at the boy. She was starting to get sick of him and him looking down his nose to look at her. She walked over to him, her back straight and her glare unwavering, trying to keep the scowl on her face when he backed up, and she leaned down and grabbed a piece of burned wood from the railing the size of her fist. She held it up for the Earl to see, and he looked at her in confusion. Annie grinned, and then went over to the stairs, just barely holding the piece of rubble with her thumb and index finger, then slowly edged it forward over the steps.

Gunfire exploded from above, and Annie dropped the piece, and the resulting booms made her jump and jerk her hand away from the dangerous rain and hold it against her chest, despite knowing her hand was unharmed. Jesus, if that had made _her _jump, she couldn't imagine how high the kid had jumped. The thought made her snicker.

The boy in question cleared his throat. "Well, not how I would've answered that question, but it does the job…" His eyes narrowed a silver when he caught Annie's amused smirk of satisfaction. "Regardless, it doesn't give us a way to get upstairs. Do you have any ideas."

She shook her head, then leaned against the wall. "Normally, I'd say we jus' go 'round the building and climb the building and go through a window, but I doubt that you have the agility, the reach, the flexibility, and the stamina to climb the stairs twice, much less climb to the second floor of a building." At the furious look of the Earl, she smirked, holding her hands out in a gesture of empty apology. "Hey, don't gimme that look, Phantomhive. Nobles don't need to be active, their servant jus' do that for 'em. No average person can jus' up and go haul themselves up a building the side of a building. Would you like me to lie to ya and say you could, then watch you crack your head open like a bloody egg and spill your fucking brains all over the road? 'Cause I'm not. It's a waste of your time and it's a waste of mine."

He glared at her, and she glared right back, bending a bit so that she lowered her eye level a bit. They stared each other down until the boy looked away with an exasperated sigh, but a certain air of superiority about him dropped. She leaned back against the wall, satisfied.

Phantomhive stayed silent a moment, then spoke in a voice that had the irritation of a child being denied clear in his words. "I'll take that as you not having any plan. Sebastian?"

"I am always prepared, my Lord." He smirked, and he took out more of his cutlery from his coat. Annie noticed that, out of the four he had in between his fingers, two utensils were blood tipped. Apparently, he had gone back for some of his knives. And forks. He was using forks as well. She snorted, to the confusion of the two males. She shook her head, her lips pressed firmly into a line so she couldn't laugh again.

Without any warning, the butler leapt towards the stairs. More specifically, the landing in between the second floor and the one between. Gunfire ripped through the silence, and he landed with his feet against the railing. He spun on impact, pulling a complete one eighty so quickly that Annie swore he had become a blur, and he threw the knives and forks at the gunmen as he lunged towards them. There was the distinct sound of four utensils finding their mark, and the sound of something being crushed, followed by the splash of blood hitting the floor.

The butler called from the top of the stairs after something thumped against the ground. "It's safe now."

The Watchdog immediately moved to go up the stairs, but Annie stood there, completely shocked and confused and just fucking _befuddled_. How had he not been shot to pieces? How had he fucking jumped, so easily,to _that landing_! That was a solid six feet! How on earth had a person, a butler, a human being done something… Well… Like _that_.

Annie pursed her lips, a sudden thought nearly knocking her over. Maybe… Maybe he was beyond human. In a weird place in her mind, it made sense. Humans couldn't jump six feet in the air effortlessly without a running jump, and then land on a railing with the grace of a dancer. Humans couldn't throw knives with the force of a bullet. Human - most of them, anyway - didn't look at children like they wanted to eat them.

Humans' eyes didn't glow.

*****She hesitantly climbed the stairs when the boy looked at her strangely, and at the landing, she stopped dead, eyes widening in shock. Phantomhive had stopped as well, a mirrored expression of shock and horror on his face. Large amounts of blood was seeping down the stairs, and she could see that a young man was laying at the top of the stairs, his head hanging in sight. She couldn't tell how old he was, half due to the fact his body was hidden by the stairs, and half because her main basis of how old he would be, his face, was smashed against the ground. His nose had obviously been shoved back into his skull, and his face was a bloody mess. A deep, long gash was placed on the bridge of his nose. Though his head had rolled to the side, it was obvious that the gash had been the cause of the break, and the wound was caused by his face making contact with the concrete. By his malformed and disfigured face, not only had his nose been broken, but his cheekbones had been shattered, along with his jaw being completely out of place to the point Annie's stomach churned.

She looked up at the butler, whose face was apologetic. Phantomhive glared at the butler. "You can not be honestly expecting me to walk through that."

Sebastian bowed at the waist, his hand on his heart. "Of course not." He then walked down the steps, his feet making squelching noises as he stepped through the small sea of red making rivers down the stairs. He lifted up the boy, making his way back, and Annie hesitantly followed. She noticed that the butler's hands - or rather, gloves- were clean. He must've changed them. Annie shuddered when she looked at the other body who had also met their death at the gloved hands of Sebastian. *His neck was completely broken, twisted around so far that his head almost faced the opposite direction, and his right hand, which had probably held his gun, was gone. She shuddered, looking up at the butler with a new sense of fear and apprehension.

Annie swallowed nervously, fear coiling so tightly in her stomach that it was almost painful. She ran down her list once more. Humans couldn't jump more than six feet in the air without effort. Humans don't use utensils as a weapon and can't use them with the force of a gun. Humans - most of them - didn't look at children like they wanted to eat them. Human eyes didn't glow. Humans can't take down several armed guards in a matter of seconds. Humans can't destroy a human face in those seconds. They also can't break a neck to the point that it's facing the wrong way.

Humans can't do these things, yet Sebastian could. He could do things that no human could do. He could do these impossible things that humans couldn't do, because he was not one of them.

She shivered when he looked back at her, and he smiled as if he knew what she were thinking. Like he knew that she was aware of his secret.

The secret of the house of Phantomhive.

Their butler wasn't human.

* * *

**Sooooo, how was it? Please read and review! Reviews make me happy, and then I write quicker! So, I'm probably going to change this story to M, because I write quite a bit of descriptive violence scenes, and I am planning for more like this. I will still have warnings up top in case anybody is triggered by gore or if they're squeamish.**

**Let me know if I made any grammar mistakes or if anything doesn't make sense or something is weak or whatever, and I'll go change/fix it. **

**By the way, when I described Sebastian's demon eyes, I was going for something along the lines of these pictures: **

** www. picbadges badges-assets/436/3731526_ **

** . **

**(Just remove the spaces) **

**I might seem a lot different than the way I described it, but I'm awful with description, sorry. . It's different than the anime, but meh. **

_**Read and Review!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! I'm back! **

**Besides school and stuff, I have no excuse as to why this is so late. .-. Sorry, I'll try not to let it happen again.**

**I've gotten quite a few views on this story (barely anything at all for other writers here, but a lot for a beginner like me), and I wanted to thank everybody for reading, reviewing, favouriting and following! I didn't expect people to see this story, and knowing that people are reading and reacting means more than you guys know. Thank you guys so much!**

**Okay, soooo this chapter might confuse people. It's told pretty much entirely from Ciel's perspective, and since he doesn't know Annie's actual name, he is still calling her by the name she introduced herself as. So she is addressed as Siobhan for this chapter. Just to clear up some stuff. I'm also going to start saying who's perceptive it is, because this story is going to involve a LOT of perspective changes. **

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji and it's characters belong to the very talented Yana Toboso, but my OCs belong to me.**

* * *

_Ciel_

Ciel analyzed. That's what he did. It was his duty as the Queen's Watchdog to dissolve the worries of Queen Victoria, and being able to look at a situation then see what the Yard had missed had become made him very good at his job. He could analyze crime scenes, situations, locations and, most importantly, people, as naturally as he could breathe.

When he had first became the Watchdog, it had required some time to acquire then master the skill to see every facet of a crime that had adults puzzled and stumped. It had also made him very good at playing games of chance. Now, though, it had become second nature to the young Earl. It didn't take much effort for him to be able to see clearly through the ruse of most adults or people.

Siobhan was no exception.

Siobhan was harder to read than most noble adults that he usually affiliated with, and even though Lao was a part of the underworld, he wasn't quite the same as she was. Though Lao was very much engaged in criminal activity, Siobhan was forced to deal with more dangerous repercussions for her actions. But he ruled that she was harder to properly observe because of her living in the criminal infested East End, having to be secretive in order to keep her head attached to her shoulders. Still, he knew that there was a lot more than what she was letting on.

From what he had seen so far, she worked alone, a lone wolf type - the way she had approached the initial fire fight made that incredibly clear. She was unused to forming plans that involved the abilities of someone other than herself. Sending Sebastian to draw the guards away was pretty clever, he supposed, but she didn't properly take the demon's vast range of skills and use them to their full potential. Then again… She didn't know how much Sebastian was capable of, when Ciel did. She wasn't aware of his capabilities, and she was more than likely distrustful of both him and Ciel. Involve them as less as possible was probably her tactic right now.

She was also very skilled with her rifle and her pistol, but she was the dangerous type of skilled. She had her revolver tucked away in the holster he had seen underneath the cover of her jacket, her rifle was slung over her back, with her hands nowhere near either weapon. To an untrained eye, it would seem like she was ignoring it. To Ciel, she was very aware it was there, but she was aware of it the same way someone was aware of their nose. Always there, always ready to be used, but she didn't need to constantly touch and fondle it to know that it was there and prepared to be fired. The weapon was an extension of her. Ciel had learned to be cautious with people who handled any weapon as if were a part of them. They were people who respected an armament and could use it to their fullest potential, no matter it's condition. Sebastian was treated those silverware knives like they were a part of him, and he could make those small, blunted knives into weapons of mass destruction.

Then, there was way she talked. It had puzzled him until she spoke more than one word sentences. Her accent, though very clearly of a lower class, was a tad bit different from other East Enders. Not by much (it was slight), but it was there, undeniably clear once he noticed it and listened for it. After shifting it through his mind a few times when she spoke, he ruled that her first language was not English. She seemed like she hid it- she hid it fairly well- but she would make small slips in parts of the conversation. Sometimes she'd have a small accent, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was because it only came up rarely into her words. It may be a hybrid of accents from two countries. Lao had an accent like that, due to how much business he did in English versus his native Chinese language. Perhaps it was a similar case.

Regardless, all these factors matched up with everything but one detail; her _occupation._ Bartenders, while usually being good information brokers if enough money was at stake, did not have the particular personality, nor the skill set Siobhan seemed to possess. When they did have connections to the criminal underworld, bartending was usually a cover. If his hunch was right, it was the same for Siobhan. Avoid suspicion by hiding in plain sight, or something along those lines.

Ciel scowled at the back of her head as they moved down the hall. They met with little to no disturbance from any other guards, and he wondered if Sebastian and Siobhan had killed them all. He wouldn't be surprised if they had. There had been a lot of corpses in the front courtyard. Siobhan had only needed to dispatch a single straggler in the halls, passed out - intoxicated by drugs or alcohol or both - and had stirred when the trio had passed. The man had started to say something, and Ciel hadn't even been able to blink before Siobhan pulled her pistol out of the holster at the side of her ribs and put a bullet between his eyes. The apathetic nature of the action had startled Ciel, the almost mechanically ease and precision of her lifting the gun and pulling the trigger. Her eyes remained forward, and he wondered how she had made such a precise shot without looking. Maybe she had very good hearing.

There were definitely quite a few questions that needed to be asked when this was all over.

Siobhan suddenly halted, and Ciel almost ran into her back, beginning to form a protest on his tongue, but he held it back when she raised a finger to her lips, then pointed to the door. The main lab. She pointed wordlessly to the wall, gesturing for him to take cover, on the left side of the door. He did so, and watched as she took place closer to the door, taking her gun in her left hand, and Ciel suddenly noticed the blood staining her shoulder.

A round hole about the diameter of the edge of his finger was ripped through the front of her shirt. Blood had stained the off-white fabric, and the wound was

Before he could say anything, Siobhan spoke, eyes looking so intensely at the door that Ciel wondered if she was looking through it. Her voice was filled with barely controlled anger as she reloaded bullets into her pistol. "There'll be at least seven guys in in there. One of 'em has black hair, probably tied into a ponytail or some shit like that. Sunken, brown eyes. White. Scrawny as hell, looks like he's smoked too many pipes. Keep him alive, and keep another alive." She looked up to Sebastian, and at his somewhat inquiring expression, her expression indifferent and cold. Ciel felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise, "For spares."

Ciel narrowed his eyes at the woman. "I'll do the questioning, if it's all the same to you. I have some questions I need have answers to. If they don't talk, I assume you know what will get them to speak?"

She paused, the calculations and thinking she was making in her head evident in her expression, then shook her head. "No, I'm not havin' you come with me," She said, almost to herself, and when Ciel began to protest, she put up her finger to silence him, refusing to look at him, "Because, it's goin' to take a lot for them to loosen their jaws. I don't want ya to see that."

Ciel faltered, his mind spinning with the reasonings of those words. Why would she care what he did or didn't see? Uncharacteristic, from what he's seen of her so far. However… She did mention earlier that she had a younger brother, so she might be attaching her emotions towards her brother to Ciel. Not unheard of, but it was still foolish. Whatever she could do, Ciel had probably seen the same before, maybe worse, and he knew that she was achingly aware of that.

The room was bare of any personal items for obvious reason, and four tables were pressed against the walls, covered in various chemicals and equipment that would be necessary for creating drugs. Rubbish covered the parts of the ground, and a ratty old couch sat against the wall near the door, and other cheap, old chairs were scattered around the room. A phone sat in the corner, off the hook, by the window. Amongst the bodies of the fallen, two men, one standing and one sitting in a chair, stared at Siobhan as if she were a ghost. A man not matching Siobhan's description walked towards Siobhan, and the man she had described was frozen, with his eyes as wide as dinner plates as he sat on the far end of the couch, trembling as he looked to the dead man laying beside him.

The former man's arms spread and palms facing her in a way that was meant to be pacifying. His expression was a forced smile that scarcely covered pure terror at her coming toward him, looking like something out of a nightmare, with her cheek sliced open and the blood of his comrades splattered against her face and clothes."Lucy, what are you doin' here-?" Siobhan cut him off by taking the hilt of her revolver and smashing it against his jaw. He groaned pathetically, doubling over and clutching his face in pain as she grabbed his shoulder, dragged him, and slammed him against the wall. He coughed, the air rushing from his lungs as Siobhan pinned him by pressing her forearm against his throat.

Lucy? He had called definitely her Lucy. Ciel paused, looking in, and she seemed unfazed at the incorrect name. She reacted to it, responded to it, and she didn't even try to correct them. Ciel scowled. She worked under an alias in the Ferro family. She could be working under an alias now, which further complicated the background of _Siobhan,_ and made it even harder for Ciel to get a read on exactly _who_ she was.

She looked back at the other man with a cool look. "Don't worry, Freddie, you're next. Just gonna make good and sure prepared to talk," Freddie, as she had called him, stared at her as he went ashy pale. The man in her grasp gaped at her in unadulterated fear at the very calm and composed look of the woman holding him. "Hiya, Ben. Did ya miss me? Probably not. You know damn well what I'm here for, so lets just get this over with, hm?" She pressed harder against his throat, and he made a choking noise as Siobhan looked back to Ciel, inclining her head to the man. "Go wait outside. This shouldn't take long, but..." She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, her expression knowing. "No peeking."

Ciel sighed, standing outside the door and crossing his arms. Countless screams, expletives, thumps, shatters, and a gunshot later, the door opened, and Siobhan and Sebastian came out. Sebastian, as per usual, was clean and proper, but Siobhan was… not. Blood was splattered across the front of her shirt, some of it obviously her's from the look of the bullet sized hole in the fabric. Another graze had ripped through her side and blood had stained a part of the shirt there. Her face was splattered with blood, but her hands looked as if she had soaked them crimson. Underneath the red, she seemed much paler than she had been when she went in.

"Did you get the location?" Ciel asked.

"'Course I did. I may not have clean ways of doin' it, but I always get it done, Watchdog. Jus' like you." Then she looked at Ciel, and he leaned back to look into her dead, flat and eyes.

She turned without another word, looking away from him just as suddenly as she had met his gaze, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. Though the gaze had been brief, he had been able to see, clear as day, that her eyes were completely void of emotion and life, besides a dark fire that burned too dull to keep light. But other wise, it was so empty and cold that Ciel had felt familiarity. An almost exact replica to what Ciel had seen in the children in the cult, except she had been the culprit, rather than a familiar gaze, so similar -too similar- to those of the children who had been there the day he and Sebastian had made their contract.

Something clicked with him at that thought and in that one stare. The children shared something with her; she was a husk. She was completely and utterly empty. Someone who was nothing, had nothing to live for and had nothing to lose. She might have seemed lively, at first glance, but now, looking at her, her blood splattered face staring vacantly, with an almost familiar feel, at her blood soaked hands, he knew that it was a facade. Just a colourful mask to cover the grey. But something else matched together in her eyes to the hopeless children rotting in cages. That emptiness was there, held in eyes that had seen too much. The complete resignation to her fate; a surrender to what she could do nothing about. But the fire burning behind her eyes, the silent, sadistic, almost invisible pleasure and fulfillment at seeing the blood she had covering her hands. Though it had similarities to two completely different things, they blended together into a look that Ciel could recognize from one month and the years of investigation.

Siobhan had the eyes of an experienced killer. If it had not been clear yet - which it had been, of course - it was crystal clear now. Siobhan was more certainly not some simple street urchin who got caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time and brought into a gang against her will.

"You're not really a bartender, are you?" Ciel asked, not even knowing he had said it out loud until the words had slipped from his mouth. At this point, it seemed like a completely pointless question, since her occupation was very obviously _not_ bartending, but he needed a direct answer.

She stopped walking, not freezing like someone who's been caught, but pausing, as if she were judging a way to correctly answer. She turned just enough to look at Ciel, her eyes now somewhat dazed, distant, and glassy, her expression of someone deep in thought. Her voice was low, with a certain softness that had not been there in her sharp voice and her harsh words. She seemed a bit dazed. "What makes you ask that?" She asked. He looked a bit closer, and noticed a thin sheen of sweat over her paler skin.

Not stopping now, Ciel shot back a response. "A bartender doesn't purposefully make such a mess. You know that you're sending a message."

There was a small quirk in the corner of her mouth and her voice was rough. "You're a clever one, aren't cha? Yeah, I'm sendin' a message to Ferro and Azzurro. A blown up lab can leave things up for guesses. Maybe some dumbass lit a match and it all went up in flame. But blood splatterin' the origin of the explosion? That makes him know for sure that someone is huntin' him down. Makes 'em paranoid. As much as they arm and defend themselves, a paranoid rat is a rat you don't have to hunt."

Ciel smirked, looking at her with a new appreciation. The next part of their plan had been to lure him in, but what Siobhan had left behind would make Azzurro desperate and scared, so he imagined that it wouldn't take long for him to make a wrong move and end the game.

Siobhan looked out the window in the room, brows pulled together. In the quiet, her ragged breathing was very loud. "Phantomhive, we should probably haul ass. This place'll be swarmin' with Ferro's once it goes up in flames, and I don't wanna be here when they show up."

Ciel inclined his head, and Siobhan turned around and started to walk back down the hall. Her feet were dragging in audible scuffs as she shuffled away, and Ciel looked to Sebastian, speaking low. "Azzurro will spring the trap once he discovers this. Then"

A thump made him look up, and his eyes widened at the sight of the woman leaned against the wall, her hand on her shoulder. She was leaning too heavily, and she looked as if she was barely holding herself up. "Ms. Cunningham?" Ciel asked carefully.

"Shit…" He heard her swear, and she almost stumbled when she pushed off the wall, but she caught herself. Ciel nodded to Sebastian, looking from the butler to the woman, and the black haired man nodded, closing the distance between him and Siobhan. He offered her a hand, but she knocked it away and shoved him back, her words slurred. "Getch'yer hands off a me. "

She pushed too hard, and stumbled backwards, legs giving out. Sebastian caught her and swept her into his arms, ignoring her weak and feeble struggles. He looked to his master. "She has lost too much blood. She will need to go to the hospital."

"N-no," She hissed, clenching her hands into tight fists, her expression defiant. "No doctors."

"You need medical attention, Ms. Blackwood," Sebastian said calmly.

Ciel frowned at the butler. Ms. Blackwood? Another alias she had told Sebastian? He must've had realized she had lied, and maybe she had managed to lie once more. Unlikely, but completely possible.

"There's... " She trailed off a bit, and she almost looked like she was about lose consciousness, but she shook her head and lolled her head to the side to look at Ciel. "There's a doctor… In my apartment complex. Dr. Allen Connors."

"Where do you live?" Ciel asked.

"2-210 Whitechapel road. Apartment… 12B."

"Do you know that the doctor will help you?"

She seemed to get a bit lost in thought at the question. "H-He 'as before. He'll do it 'gain."

* * *

Actually reaching the dingy, shabby apartment building wasn't difficult. Siobhan had sat in the car with Ciel for the ride there, staying silent the entire time. Well, almost silent. Her heavy pants of exertion, and her eyes were half lidded in a last ditch effort to keep herself awake, and one of her hands were placed at the wound at her shoulder, trying to stop the blood flow, and her other rested on the bloodied coin purse at her hip. An odd action, considering she was always bleeding from her side, but by the way she kept casting lazy, suspicious glances at Ciel, he concluded that she thought he was going to steal back the money once she collapsed.

Once the carriage had come to a halt, Sebastian helped Ciel out, then lifted Siobhan out of the now bloody seat, carrying her out of the carriage and into the building. The building inside was dull and dim, with peeling wallpaper and old, wood flooring and stairs that creaked in immense strain when they were stepped on. Ciel looked around. The building wasn't dirty, per se, but it didn't exactly look like it was in very good condition.

They climbed the stairs, the only sound around them distant murmurs of other occupants, the stairs shrieking, and Siobhan's heavy, strained breathing and her occasional moan of pain. In front of him, Sebastian did not rush, holding Siobhan's body in his hands gingerly to keep from moving her and agitating her wound. She looked remarkably small, curled in on herself to protect wounds in the tall man's arms. Ciel imagined that Sebastian's usually pristine uniform would be smeared with her blood after this.

Coming up to the door, Sebastian shifted Siobhan so that he could free one arm and knock. The butler quickly rapped his knuckles on the door, and Ciel heard an awkward, pubescent, countertenor voice call a quick, "_Coming!"_, then the thumping of someone running to the door. The door flew open, revealing a breathless boy a bit older than Ciel with dirty blonde hair, and forest green eyes that still had the roundness of childhood. His face, though becoming more angular and strong jawed, was still fairly round with baby fat. He was gangly and a bit skinny, but more from rapid growing than lack of food, and was he taller than Ciel by about four inches, which made his jaw tick. _This must be her brother,_ Ciel thought to himself.

The boy smiled politely, welcoming. "Hi-?" He froze upon seeing Annie's bloodied body, and he opened the door wide in a clear gesture for the trio to come in. "Grandpa! Clear off the table, Annie's hurt bad!"

Ciel frowned. She was being called Annie now. Another name. Ciel rubbed his temples, trying to push away the migraine he felt coming on. Siobhan was becoming more complicated and more trouble than she was worth in every passing minute. Too many names, too many identities, too many mismatching stories and skills and jobs and histories.

Sebastian looked at Ciel when he sighed as he moved into the apartment, faster than he had before. Clattering crashes erupted from off to the right. Ciel, curious, looked, seeing an old man with a nose that looked like it had been broken and not healed correctly, grey hair and an equally grey beard, sweeping the contents off the kitchen table, and hastily cleaning off the surface. He looked up, calling to the boy. "Joseph, go fetch the Doc!"

"On it!" With that, the boy sprinted out, shouting, "Dr. Connors, Dr. Connors!", followed by frantic banging.

"Put 'er on the table, butler," The old man said, gesturing to the now clean table. Sebastian did as told, laying Siobhan on the table. The old man quickly assessed the injuries, his eyes were sad. His voice was thick. "Oh, Annie, what did they do to ye…?" He brushed a long lock of her hair out of the wound, and it was congealed with blood.

Joseph burst back into room, arm full of what looked like blood bags, followed by a man carrying a medical bag, brown haired and grey eyed, in his late forties and a woman, blond haired and hazel eyed, the same age. He immediately cursed at the wounds. "God dammit, Annie, stop getting shot!"

She wheezed a laugh so weak it was pathetic. She was still conscious, but apparently just barely. "S-so-"

The doctor scowled at her. "Don't speak, idiot!" He chastised, opening the bag and placing it on the table beside Annie. "Marie, get the needle ready, I'm gonna clean out the wound."

The woman, Marie, nodded, but Ciel narrowed his eye. "Aren't you going to give her any medication?" Everyone was scurrying around Siobhan's prone body, moving frantically, with jerky movements.

The doctor looked up as he grabbed a pair of clean, very sharp scissors, moving to the side with the wound and sniping them experimentally. "For Annie? No. There's no time, and she refuses them anyway. A waste of effort on both her part and mine." He looked to the old man, "Can you get her the bite, Will?"

The old man, Will, nodded hesitantly, then opened a drawer and grabbed what looked like a cloth wrapped around something cylinder shaped. He pressed it to her lips, and she opened her mouth and began to bite down on it. Ciel noticed her fists clenching tight and her expression was tense in anticipation.

Dr. Connors readied the scissors to her shirt, looking down at her. "Some of the blood has dried to your shirt, so I'll have to rip it off. Are you ready?" She said something muffled by the bite, but she sounded sarcastic. The doctor rolled his eyes, sounding equally sardonic when he spoke. "I'll take that as a yes."

He began to cut at the bottom button of her shirt, and in one clean, very quick motion, he sliced open her shirt. He cut away the parts congealed by blood with little incident, and though Siobhan seemed to be in no pain, her fists, clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white, and her jaw, clamped too tight onto the bite, gave her away. She let out a strangled, weak shriek as the doctor tore away the cloth over the gunshot wound.

Usually, Ciel would have been mortified and looked away from her bare skin, but he was entranced in silent horror at the marred skin.

Scars criss crossed and slashed across the skin of her chest, some long, some aged and shiny with scar tissue, others red with stitches still laced in between the flesh. There was a prominent scar that jumped out at Ciel - a long, surgical cut going down from her sternum to the underneath the remains of her shredded shirt. Once he saw the first surgical scar, he began to notice others. All clean, precise cuts, contrasting against some of the jagged scars and old gunshot wounds.

Ciel tried not to shudder. How could any human survive being cut, slashed and _shot so many times?_

* * *

_Joseph_

Joseph watched Dr. Connors make the first cut. In the beginning, it had used to make him sick to watch - he had actually thrown up the first time - but now he had long since been fine with it, because he knew that it was to help Annie. As Dr. Connors got tweezers to pull out the bullet and it's shrapnel, Joe looked over to the other boy standing on the other side of the table, looking disgusted.

The boy was short, and was dressed in pristine, blue coloured noble clothes. His hair was a shiny blue-black, and his skin was so pale that Joe swore he'd glow in moonlight. He was also skinny, with only a bit more weight that the street kids, which was weird. Weren't nobles supposed to be well-fed?

The man standing beside him was tall and dark haired, and, to be completely honest, a bit intimidating. His expression was impassive, maybe even a bit apathetic. He was clad entirely in black, and a small pin was clipped to the front pocket of his tail coat. Though he was dressed all professional as a butler, he knew from Annie's self-defence lessons that the butler was dressed for trouble. His jacket was a bit looser than it should be, and slight bulges signified that he was armed to the teeth. It was concealed enough that Joe didn't know what the butler had on him, but not enough that he couldn't see the butler was packing weapons.

The butler looked to the staring boy and smiled innocently, putting one finger to his lips. Joe shivered and looked away. And he had thought _nobles_ were the freaky ones.

There was a clink of the doctor taking out the bullet, and Joe looked to the bloody metal. Dr. Connors started to pick out the shards still imbedded with practiced precision, slowly but surely taking the other shrapnel out of her shoulder. Once he finished, he moved away to grab Annie's right calf and wrist, pinning her down. Grandpa did the same as Marie stepped forward, holding a bottle of alcohol.

Joe tensed, and he couldn't help the curse that slipped from his mouth. The noble boy looked over at him confused. "What? What are-?"

He was interrupted by Marie pouring the alcohol into the wound, and he fell silent at Annie's muffled shout. Annie's back arched away from the table, the muscles in her neck tense to keep from screaming. Her arms jerked in a struggle, but the doctor and Gramps held her down.

She stopped struggling after a few minutes, and the doc took her arm and held it up, nodding at Marie. "Get me the needle and the blood."

Marie nodded, handing him the needle, then she started to prepare the blood as the doctor sewed the wound shut. Marie jabbed the needle into Annie's elbow after prodding for veins a while, feeding the blood into her as the doctor finished. He sighed, taking off his bloody gloves.

"Alright," He looked over to Grandpa, looking all somber like, "As far as I can tell, she's out of the danger zone, but she might still go under for a while from blood loss. Marie is going to give her more blood as she regenerates her own, but make sure she eats the foods from the list I gave you a while back. Still have it?" Gramps nodded. "Good. So, now I'm going to be doing a full body examination for other wounds, so all you," He gestured to everyone, then over to the living room. "Out."

Grudgingly, Joe cast another look at his sister, before he shuffled into the living room, followed by the boy, the butler, and Gramps. He sat down stiffly on the couch with Gramps, trying and failing to not stare at the odd, pale pair. Silence stretched on for what seemed like an eternity.

The boy spoke first. "Will she live?"

"Takes a lot more than this to take Annie down," Joe said automatically.

"She lost a lot of blood."

"She heals quick," Joe said, then sneered at the boy, "I bet the money you bribed her with that she'll be up and moving around by tomorrow."

The boy glared at him, his gaze too heated for someone of his age. "She offered her… Expertise."

"And you accepted it, you-."

"Joseph, that's enough outta you," Gramps snapped, cutting off the boy.

Joe crossed his arms, scowling. He looked to the boy. "What were y'all doing?"

The boy frowned. "It's none of your business."

Fury rolled in his stomach, and his gaze went red around the edges. "The hell it isn't," Joe hissed, the only thing from keeping him standing up and staring down the boy being Grandpa's restraining arm. "I just wanna know why my sister is lyin' pale as sheet on the kitchen table, getting sewn up from a _gunshot wound._" The boy didn't seem like he was going to grace him with an answer, and Joe ground his teeth together to keep from swearing at the brat. "Annie'll just tell me later, anyway. I've got more beef with her than your spoiled, scrawny ass."

The boy's jaw locked tight, and he glared fiercely at Joe. Gramps slapped him on the back of the head for swearing, but the furious expression of the noble was exactly what Joe had wanted. He glared with as much malice as his baby face could muster.

The boy huffed, turning to his butler. "Prepare the carriage. We're done here."

The butler inclined his head in a small bow, hand to his heart, murmuring, "Yes, my Lord."

* * *

**Awkward place to end it, I know, but this has just been a bitch of a chapter to write. I've rewritten it four times, and I'm still not very satisfied with it. The next chapter should come faster, but I've been supppperrrr busy with school work, so it's iffy. I'll try my best. **

**I'm just imagining Ciel being really confused because of Annie's many aliases. xD**

**Anyway, thanks for reading! Please review! **


End file.
